On this unfamiliar dawn large cloud formations lit by a pale
          sun formed a  purple  mass  over  the city.  Motionless, the
          clouds  could have  been  solid  matter,  rocky  peaks,  and
          mountains afloat in  the  sky. On it's descent the plane was
          suddenly buffeted like a kite in a wind tunnel.

          Shaun Maclaren anxious  to  see  Professor  Gaisford  at the
          appointed time was  among  the first passengers to leave the
          Boeing 747. He  entered  the stuffy terminal, passed quickly
          through  customs  and   immigration,  where  his  much  used
          passport caused the  immigration officer to make a mild joke
          about how he should have a season ticket to his city. Shaun,
          too concerned to  reply,  smiled,  rushed outside and took a
          cab, with a cheerful driver to the hospital.

          Professor Gaisford sat in his office overlooking the elegant
          gardens of the  hospital  grounds.   He  stared at the door,
          absent-mindedly, waiting for  Shaun  Maclaren  to arrive. He
          had made a  long  and detailed study of the sex-reassignment
          program, now he  was  forced  to tell -his favourite patient
          that  a  manufactured   penile   prosthesis   could  not  be
          implanted.

          He had read,  re-read,  all the reports, and history before,
          and after Shaun's  Vagus nerve operation.  The report on the
          removal of the  tumour,  on  which  he  had insisted. It was
          obvious that his  bladder  had been weakened and any attempt
          at  implanting  a  solid  penile  prosthesis,  would  almost
          certainly be rejected by Shaun's body.

          Shaun listened to  the  Professor's  explanation  but all he
          could think of was Macia's cruel, harsh words.  In one blow,
          all his hopes  of  ever becoming a complete whole man, gone.
          He stared at  the  Professor Gaisford, his face a ghost like
          white. He seemed incapable of speaking.

          His disappointment turned  slowly  to  anger.  This  was the
          second time his  dreams,  his  hopes  had been shattered. He
          knew it wasn't  the  Professor's fault. But to have suffered
          the agony of having a pedicle raised. To have worked so hard
          to cover all  the  expenses,  only to find out it was all in
          vain. That because  of  an  operation Maureen had forced him
          into and an  Army  doctor  had performed, he, Shaun Maclaren
          would now never be a whole man.

          He stood up,  wanting  to  leave  the hospital. He wanted to
          run---run  like  hell,   get   away,   from  the  Professor,
          everything, run away  and  die.  Tears  welled up behind his
          eyes.  ' I  am  a man,' he screamed inwardly trying to fight
          back the tears, ' Real men- -they don't cry.'

          Professor Gaisford looked closely at his patient.

          " Cry Shaun,"  he  said with a smile. " I know you're a man.
          Let go Shaun.  Men  they cry. There is no shame in releasing
          your pent-up feelings.  There is hope. There's always hope."

          "  Hope! No!"  Shaun  retorted  angrily,  "  because  of  an
          unnecessary operation, you  have told me my body will reject
          an implant. What's left? Macia called me a useless neuter. I
          know now she  was  right.  Why go on? I can't live with just
          hope. Please, leave me alone---allow me to die."

          " Maclaren! Sit  down  and listen to me," the Professor said
          angrily.

          " There is  hope.  We  do  have an alternative, but it is an
          experiment, one, that my colleagues and I firmly believe has
          a ninety percent  chance of being successful.  The procedure
          has been tried  in  other laboratories with limited success.
          Here, in this  hospital  another  method has been developed.
          For us it will be a first, and I know with your help we will
          succeed.  It will  help  so  many  other  people,  not  only
          transexuals like yourself."

          " An experiment!  A  first. Me a guinea-pig." the minutes of
          silence seemed unending.

          Suddenly Shaun realized  there  was hope, a chance, a reason
          for living, if  only  to  prove  Macia  and all those others
          wrong. He knew  in his heart that all he had to cling to was
          the ability of Professor Gaisford.

          " How?" he asked as he returned to his seat. " Why? When?"

          " Before your salpingo-oophorectomy, and from your records,"
          the Professor began,  "  we have found that after your Vagus
          operation you were  given  hormone  treatment, which in your
          case caused super  ovulation.   It is not clear, why at that
          stage you were  given hormone therapy, but a large number of
          eggs from your  ovaries  were  collected and frozen. We have
          been able to  acquire  them  and  have  taken  some  of them
          through various experiments with outstanding results.

          With your consent,  I will take a section of erectile tissue
          from your clitoris.  From your vaginal canal, which consists
          of a muscular  coat,  a  layer  of  erectile  tissue  and an
          internal  coat of  squamous  epithelium,  which  are  cells,
          rather like an shell I will take another section.

          Using your egg  cells,  the  erectile  tissue and a suitable
          vehicle we will clone a penis which your body will accept. A
          portion of your vaginal lining will be used.  The horizontal
          folds will help to keep it's shape during growth."

          " How will  you  make  it  grow?"  Shaun  asked,  trying  to
          disperse the doubts  in  his  mind  as to the success of the
          experiment.

          The Professor thought  for  a moment.  " It is a complicated
          system Shaun, but  broadly  speaking,  the egg cell from the
          ovaries posses a  storehouse  of  nutrients,  and  these are
          needed for development.   We are now able to remove the Zona
          Pellucida, which promotes  normal  cell division by using an
          enzyme.

          Our people feel,  that  by  grafting  the  erectile tissues,
          replacing the nucleus of the egg with the nucleus of some of
          the new tissue,  and  using sodium alginate, a derivative of
          seaweed, a novel  technique, which has been improved at this
          hospital  we  will   provide   a  substitute  for  the  Zona
          Pellucidia. We know that when we put this artificial coating
          around the cell they will grow.

          With this new  coating  the  cells  will be in a solution of
          deoxyribonucleic acid, beginning  in  a large Petri dish. It
          will be fed with the genetically engineered growth hormone (
          BST )."

          " I know now that you will be successful," Shaun interrupted
          excitedly, " how  will you manage to keep it erect without a
          strong blood supply?"

          " From our  discussions  over  the past months I realize you
          have an understanding  of  the  construction  of  the normal
          penis.

          As you may  know  Shaun,  it  has  three cylindrical columns
          surrounded by fibrous  sheaths. The cylindrical compartments
          become divided up  into  spaces like a honeycomb, capable of
          distension by venous  blood  supply  when  there is erection
          stimulus.

          The largest columns  lie  side by side in front. They are as
          you know corpora  cavernosa.   The  smaller  one, the corpus
          spongiosum lies behind  and  between  them.  We are going to
          clone the penis  around three micropipettes, which will keep
          them erect.  We  will  use  one  of  the  corpora  cavernosa
          channels as a urethra canal. Eventually it will be joined to
          your urethra canal  which  is  about  one  and a half inches
          long.  This is  a fairly simple operation as your canal is a
          quarter inch wide and easy to dilate.

          At the termination  of  the  penis  the  pipette we use as a
          urethra canal will end in the deep grove of the heart shaped
          portion covering the  other  two pipettes. We intend to keep
          the base flaccid  with  the  folds we take from the internal
          section of your vagina.

          The head of  the  clitoris  will be buried within the shaft,
          and we believe  that  the  thrusting movement of coitus will
          stimulate the clitoris  sufficiently  to  bring about sexual
          arousal. As I  told  you  before  you  will be able to avoid
          social  embarrassment  by  placing  the  penis  against  the
          abdominal wall and  wearing  tight  underwear.  In your case
          when  you  remove   the  underwear,  the  penis  will  erect
          slightly, but because of the blood flow through the erectile
          tissue, the penis  will  increase  to  a  full erection when
          stimulated.

          The closure of  the  vagina, will as I told you earlier be a
          separate  operation and  will  require  a  lengthy  stay  in
          hospital."

          " How long will the experiment take?"

          " Bearing in  mind that this will be our first attempt Shaun
          it is difficult to say with any great accuracy.  We all know
          the  full  gestation   period  is  forty  weeks.  I  feel  a
          reasonable estimation would be thirty to thirty two weeks."

          " After you  have  taken the tissue for the laboratory, when
          do you think I should return for the testicular insertion?"

          Professor Gaisford glanced  at  his  diary.  " The operation
          for the removal  of  tissue  has  been  booked for tomorrow,
          providing you agree  to  the  procedure. Perhaps after a few
          days recovery we could insert the testes. It will reduce the
          cost of going home and coming out again in a few weeks time.
          But  it  does   depend   on   how   you  perform  under  the
          anaesthetic."

          " Is there  a  risk  of  my  body  rejecting  the testicular
          prosthesis?" Shaun asked.

          " I don't  think  we will have a problem.  As I have already
          explained, because you  have a weak bladder, a solid implant
          could cause damage,  and  your  body  would almost certainly
          reject it. That  is  one  of the reasons why, the laboratory
          staff, including myself are so excited about cloning a penis
          from your own cells that we know will not be rejected.

          With the testes  it  is  somewhat different. They are as you
          know inserted within  the  lips  of  your  vagina, the Labia
          Majora. There is  in  that area, smooth muscle, fat and skin
          and an ample supply of blood and nerve.

          I feel it  only  fair to tell you Shaun, that because of the
          nerve endings there  will be some discomfort until the wound
          has completely healed.

          The healing process  will  take some time. We will of course
          be able to  ease  the  discomfort  with  medication.  In the
          beginning  you  will   be   on   morphine,   and  eventually
          Pethidrine."

          The lights over  the  table glared down.  The curt orders of
          Professor  Gaisford and  his  assistant  kept  gloved  hands
          moving in and  out of the circle of light that showed towels
          and intent masked  faces.  Gloved  hands  that  clamped  off
          bleeders with blunt  haemostatic  forceps,  and swabbed away
          the misting blood.

          A new scalpel  came  into  the Professor's hands, exercising
          delicately  as  it  followed  the  most  difficult  part  of
          planning away tissues.  He  looked  for  the  head  nurse in
          charge of the  petri  dishes  and humid container.  With the
          tissues and linings  safely  inside,  Nurse  Wainwright took
          them to the laboratory on the sixth floor.

          The  Professor  straightened   up   as   the  serious  faced
          anaesthetist read the  recordings  of  pulse,  pressure  and
          respiration. The patient on the table was normal.

          When  Professor  Gaisford   announced  that  the  testicular
          prosthesis would be inserted immediately, the tension in the
          theatre mounted. Minutes  later,  diagrams  and  X-rays were
          displayed.

          " Ready Doctor?"  the Professor asked when the masking tapes
          were in place.

          The doctor nodded.  Professor  Gaisford looked back from the
          diagrams. He no  longer  needed them, they were firmly fixed
          in his mind.

          All thoughts of  Shaun Maclaren, his favourite patient faded
          as he studied the operative area.

          "  Scalpel!" He  recognised  Nurse  Wainwright's  blue  eyes
          behind the mask.  Pleased  that  she had returned so quickly
          from the lab,  he  smiled  at her. Automatically he felt the
          weight of the  scalpel,  then prepared the inner area of the
          Labia  Majora for  insertion  of  the  prosthesis.  A  small
          bleeder flooded, the assistant bent to clamp.

          The  testes  were  inserted  and  joined.   Shaun  Maclaren,
          unknowing snored peacefully  with  the  rise and fall of the
          bag that the anaesthetist watched carefully.

          " Suture."

          The Professor turned  his  wrist and the cutting needle slid
          through the skin  that  was  surprisingly tough for all it's
          soft appearance.  The needle holder twisted expertly drawing
          the other end  of  the  suture  through  the  loops that the
          movement had made.  The  sutures knotted with a gentle pull.
          Another threaded needle and holder slapped against his palm.

          " Swab! I want a clear field."

          The doctor swabbed fast and accurately, the smear of seeping
          blood gone. The  testicular  prosthesis  inserted, the wound
          almost closed.

          "  He's  breathing   well,   pressure   near   normal,"  the
          anaesthetist informed the Professor, " I'm bringing him back
          to the first plane of anaesthesia now."

          The operation was drawing to a close.  The anaesthetist gave
          the final reading  of  blood  pressure  and respiration.  He
          watched the heavily breathing patient, turned off the valves
          and logged the time on the chart.

          "  Take him  to  the  observation  room,"  the  doctor  said
          wearily, " normal post-operative procedure."

          Professor Gaisford smiled reassuringly at Shaun Maclaren who
          was  trying  to   see   him  through  the  fading  mists  of
          anaesthesia.

          " Feel all right Shaun?"

          " All right-?"  came  back  the  weak whisper of a reply. He
          felt sick. It was hard to remember.

          " The testes --I have them?" he asked, trying to grin, " now
          I'm a man."

          " Nurse Wainwright will be looking after you."

          As the Professor  left  Shaun whispered his thanks and tried
          to smile.

          There was neither  night or day in the windowless room, only
          the cold, unfriendly  glare  of  the fluorescent tubes.  The
          white walls and the hiss of oxygen near a bed.

          Shaun was aware  of  Nurse  Wainwright  from  time  to  time
          standing beside his  bed, whether day or night he had no way
          of knowing. The  Nurse  was sterile--capped and masked. When
          she bent over  him  he  thought  she  was  like a wind-blown
          flower, with attentive, caring blue eyes.

          " Please," he  whispered,  "  hold my hand; it will make the
          pain more bearable when it comes back, please help me."

          Leah Wainwright held  his  hand.  Shaun squeezed it. Seconds
          later he squeezed it again as if to underline the onset of a
          sharper, deeper pain.

          Leah  pressed  the   trigger   that   released   a  shot  of
          pain-killing morphine into  his system. Slowly his hand slid
          out of hers.

          He tried to piece it altogether, seeking where he could , in
          the narrow slits  of  clarity, lying between great oceans of
          pain, hurtling back  into the past, where it no longer hurt.
          Oceans,  unbounded  regions   of   pain,  that  having  been
          experienced and endured  could  hurt no more. Yet they still
          had to be  pushed  away  to make room for new experiences of
          pain that made  him  -  were  being  constantly kneed in the
          groin.

          There were two  other  stretchers in the room with a body on
          each of them.  He  recognised  the  face  of the one who was
          turned towards him.   He had seen it in the transexual wing,
          when he was being prepared for surgery.

          Shaun reasoned that  he  must have been in the recovery room
          for a few  days.  He  remembered  one  or two people walking
          around in dressing  gowns who had opened the door and stared
          at him. Through the half-open door he had seen someone doing
          exercises under the  guidance  of  the  physiotherapist in a
          white coat.

          He found it  disturbing when he tried to fix his thoughts on
          peace and quietness,  a  form  of  therapy, it always turned
          into something else. There was, he thought no place to hide.
          No shield of  peace  or  quietness.   No  sheltering bell of
          light he had  found in the Convent as a child. Now there was
          nowhere to hide. Nowhere at all.

          Shaun lay for  a  long  time  in this timeless area that was
          concerned only with  pain.  Yet he lay beyond the reality of
          pain. He listened to the hushed voices of the nurses, and at
          times their soft  laughter.   He  remembered  Lorraine,  her
          laugh when he  tried speaking Italian.  He wondered if Nurse
          Wainwright, under that  cap  and  mask  looked anything like
          her.

          He remembered the  'Revelation  of  the  Lamb' The beautiful
          landscape.  The  Fountain   of   Life,  and  the  towers  of
          Jerusalem. Once more he saw Christ as King. John the Baptist
          and the Virgin Mary.

          The sheets of  pain  moved  as if there was something inside
          him pushing it  out. At first in the shadowy clefts and dark
          places, he remembered  the  Outback, Macia, and the enormous
          Red Rock. Later  they  vanished to make room for the clarity
          of the ' Revelation.'

          It  was  with   a   special  clarity,  he  saw  clearly  the
          red-cloaked figure of Jesus wearing The Crown of Thorns.  Of
          Mary  Magdalene, clothed  in  a  beautiful  soft  blue  gown
          nursing the body  of  Christ.   He saw the alter bearing the
          massive  crucifix,  and   the   ornate  pulpit  which  still
          fascinated him.

          This time, he  was not frightened, or horrified. In all that
          he saw, and  tried  so  hard  to touch, he found a peaceful,
          contented tranquillity.  In  this place, within the cold and
          bleak, rough stone walls of the dungeon, Shaun Maclaren felt
          no pain.  When  he awoke in his hand was his postcard of the
          ' Ecce Homo.'

          Professor Gaisford insisted that Shaun either, remain in the
          hospital, or reside  close by for at least another month, so
          that his daily intake of testosterone and Pethidine could be
          monitored. Adding that  if  the  wound  did  break  down, an
          immediate repair could be effected.

          It  was Nurse  Wainwright  who  came  to  the  rescue.   She
          suggested that, providing the Professor agreed he could stay
          at her flat, a few blocks from the hospital.

          To Shaun it seemed that Leah Wainwright was taking a special
          interest in him. He wondered if it was the Professor's idea,
          or, as he hoped, that Leah genuinely cared for him.

          It was Shaun's  last  day  at  the  hospital.  The Professor
          knowing he would  be  in  safe  hands  signed  the discharge
          papers. He sat  up in bed in his room in the transexual wing
          and saw Nurse Wainwright standing at the window.

          For a long  time he looked at her. Out of uniform he thought
          she was even  more  attractive.  She  was  so different from
          Maureen,  Macia, or  Lorraine.  Shaun  believed  she  had  a
          special beauty all  of  her  own. Her light brown hair worn,
          long and loose. Her legs shapely, her figure lithe and slim.
          The time spent  in  hospital  had  not  deprived  her of the
          golden tan he admired so much.

          As she turned  he  saw  a few freckles, like neglected pools
          left by a  receding  tide of tan that framed the blue of her
          exceptional eyes. He had been told that Leah Wainwright was,
          until her sex-reassignment a male nurse at the hospital. The
          surgery having been supervised by the Professor a year ago.

          She had been  asked  by the board to continue working at the
          hospital, eventually becoming  Professor  Gaisford's Head of
          Nursing, and Shaun  thought  as  she smiled at him she was a
          remarkable woman.

          After the doctor's  final examination Shaun walked slowly to
          the room where  Leah  Wainwright  was waiting.  She held out
          her hands to  help  him.  Shaun  could  feel  the  chemistry
          between them, as in silence they drove to her flat.

          Leah put the  exhausted  Shaun  Maclaren  to  bed. His hands
          reached for hers.  It  wasn't much of a kiss, only the touch
          of the lips,  just  as  his  mother  might  have  kissed him
          good-night.  But Shaun  found  it  more  satisfying than any
          kiss of greater intensity.

          There was the  touch  of  her  hands  as  she  tucked in the
          covers. Her nearness, and the look in her eyes.