Jack Chalker: The Messiah Choice

“Then—it was an illusion?” He’d known it, but it had been so good, so real.

She shook her head in disgust. “After all we have been through, you and I, you can worry about what is real and what is illusion? The world is a magic place, my darling, if you wish it to be, if you believe that it is. Who is to say where reality ends and illusion begins? Who cares?”

Who cares indeed? “ You know, I can still get that changeover. Go all the way. I think that’s what St. Cyr meant. It doesn’t matter to me any more what I look like, but I’d be perceived as normal by others. Me like that and you with a wig and we could go places and do things without a whole army of security people.”

“Oh, no. I will not give you a chance to be a voyeur in the ladies’ rooms of the world. I think you are perfect just the way you are, and I would be content right now if this, right here, went on forever. We have earned it. What I see in your eyes in more than enough of the world for me.”

He grabbed her, and held her close, and kissed her, and they were at it again without benefit of spells or special augmentation. She broke for air and laughed. “We forgot the dildo.”

“Who cares?” he retorted, and kissed her again.