Peter Prellwitz - Shards Book One

I studied them as well as I could, learning as much as possible without touching them. Satisfied I understood their general workings and limitations, I cast my curiosity around somewhere else.

A group of soldiers were playing what looked like basketball over near the rec/gym area. I wandered over and was glad to see it was a coed game. I wasn't sure I could handle an all male crowd yet. I sat down on the floor and watched them.

It was basketball. Or it was what basketball had turned into. The basket hovered about three meters above the floor, but would on occasion shift on its axis and remain in that position for several minutes.

And the ball seemed to take exaggerated bounces on occasion. They kept on playing, enjoying the time and camaraderie. Several waved at me, and I waved back. Finally, after about ten minutes, they took a breather, and three of the women came over to me. I recognized one as the tenor in the Birthday Suit trio. I didn't know the others.

"Hiya, Abby!? said the singer. She shoved out a sweaty hand.? We haven't met formally, yet. I'm Kate Garvey. This is Lena Hacker and Rachel Breslin.? She jabbed a thumb at the men, who were keeping a respectful distance, and raised her voice.? I'd introduce these dogs to you, but you seem like a lady.?

They all laughed. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.? Though you didn't seem too much a lady yesterday morning."

"You didn't, either, Kate.? I said, also in a low voice.? But you're a great tenor.? We chuckled.

"We missed you this morning. I was hoping for a couple new tunes."

"Sorry, but I've got laundry."

"Laundry!? Lena spoke for the first time. She shuddered.? Jackson 's a jerk."

"That does seem to be the general opinion,? I agreed.? Maybe I can get over on an off duty day. I miss the shower crowd. Even though I joined in only once, I felt, I don't know, comfortable.? They nodded, understanding.

"I was there, too,? said Rachel,? but you probably didn't see me. It wasn't till later that morning that we realized you were the first, um…? she tried to find the right way.

"No, I wasn't, Rachel. Doctor Barrett said the same thing. Let's just forget it, all right? As far as I see it, the Birthday Suit Trio still has a very exclusive audience."

Kate breathed a sigh.? Fine by me. I never thought it would be this hard. Hey, we're about to start up again. Why don't you join us? Do you know the game?"

I shrugged.? Sure. It's called basketball. It was all the rage in my day. I even played forward in my college days.? They laughed, and I looked at them, confused. Lena saw my look.

"Abby, don't you realize how silly that sounds? I'm sure you did, but coming from the mouth of a, forgive me, runt like you, college sports is something to imagine."

"I know. I'm getting a lot of that. Still, don't underestimate me.? I paused.? Though I'm probably not so hot at basketball anymore."

"Believe me, we're trying not to underestimate you,? said Kate.? Especially after the way you worked over Lendler yesterday. C'mon, give it a try. We'll put you at guard. Only it's called targetball. Out of curiosity, why did they call it basketball?"

So I gave them history of the game as I remembered it. They seemed fascinated, partially from the history, partially because it was a teenager giving it. The guys took the court, playing as a team now.

They were three to our four. I finished stretching and Lena threw me the ball.

It hit the floor once, then changed direction on the bounce. I adjusted quickly and caught it, but pretty awkwardly. It looked to be the same size, but was immense in my hands. It was also weighted to one side. The ball had a faint marking on it that traced out an oblong weight attached to the inside of the ball.

Having the ball, one of the men advanced on me. I deeked him to the right, then dribbled to my left. The ball hit the floor once and veered off. I had to lunge to keep hold of it, which meant I had to pass it off.

This was going to take time.

More time than I had, as it turned out. After half an hour, I was exhausted and had a stitch in my side. I had managed to score all of one basket on at least a dozen shots. I had learned a new game and had made several new friends, again all from Company A. I very much enjoyed myself, even though they were obviously holding back. Still, I was glad to see Susie standing on the sideline, cheering. I turned and waved just as Lena tossed me the ball. It hit me in the stomach and bounced to Forrest, the one with dark, curly hair and cute brown eyes. I shook my head, startled at the thought. I walked over to the sideline toward Susie. The game continued without me.

"You don't have to stop on my account, Abigail."

"You're right, Susie,? I gasped out.? I have to stop on my account.? We watched them play, the intensity picking up considerably. A good crowd. I wondered how someone like Jackson could survive in an outfit like this. As we walked back to our quarters, I voiced the thought aloud. Susie became quiet.

"I'm afraid our ranks are always a little thin. Sometimes we get as good as we give. We keep the best up front, and tolerate soldiers like Jackson because by freeing up a first rate dog, he becomes as valuable as one.

"You'll see some in the front ranks now, too. But they're different. There was a time when we were all idealists. Everyone fought for the Cues. Now most of us do. The others fight because they have a hatred for NATech, a personal vendetta, or just like to fight."

How many things should I tell you? I could go on and on about even the smallest details, it was all so exciting to me. Looking back over my account, I see that I have been going over the smallest details. I have to beg your forgiveness, but if you've gotten this far, I suppose there had to be some value in it.

There was so much for me to do, learn and experience. So much history, so much technology, so many relationships to build, and yes, a life to rebuild.

And all of it was intensified from my new point of view. As the days, then weeks, passed by, I became more and more aware of how much my sexuality affected my whole viewpoint of the world. My physique had started out and would forever stay female. I had in me all the normal chemicals, emotions, and needs that made me a young woman.? Sugar and spice, and everything nice, that's what little girls are made of.

? I'd never paid much attention to the little poem, and when I did, it was with little curiosity and maybe even mild contempt. The differences between the genders was not so great as sugar and spice and snips, snails and puppy dog tails, I thought.

But it is. Everything that happened seemed to affect me more inside than anything that had happened when I had been male. I could get all weepy over a hug now, glow at a pleasant smile, sulk at the smallest insult or slight, or flare in anger over any injustice. And I took successes and failures much more personally. I wasn't an emotionless robot as a man. Of course I had feelings and emotions as a male. But they were more facets of me, portions that could be accessed. As a girl, these emotions and feelings were spread throughout me, affecting everything I thought, said and did.

Some of it could no doubt be attributed to my young age and maturing body. But even that only underscored the differences. The process of turning into a woman was so much more personal, yet so much more… public than going through puberty as a boy. I could see now why this age could be more difficult… no, more intense, for girls than boys. A lowering of the voice and thickening of the muscles was nowhere near as personal as the enlarging of the breasts and hips. A boy becoming a man showed overall changes that accented his becoming a complete adult, better able to compete and survive in the world. But a girl's outward changes accented the most intimate portions of her body, and showed her becoming a complete woman. I don't suppose I can explain to half of you, and don't need to for the other half. But I wanted to share as best I could what I was going through. Why? Because it was important to me, now that I was a young woman. I was still me, but me had a new definition. And perhaps for the better, though I would never have given up being John Wyeth.