Chapter 1: New Me

She was my twin. We were slender, five feet even, blue-eyed and totally bald. At the moment we were naked and posing for the cameras. I had sworn off crying while recovering from surgery at the Ares Boys Academy back in 1936 on my twelfth birthday. World War Two and Cold War service had erected formidable fortifications around my heart. Focusing on immediate tasks, even just standing stone still while camera shutters clicked, took all my attention.

“Lunchtime,” Athena announced. “Jackie and Billie, my table, girls.”

For the past two decades ‘lunch’ had been called ‘dinner’ and ‘dinner’ was called ‘supper.’ A cup of broth, two squares of unsalted crackers, a small bowl with cut fruit and water—had to maintain my new girlish figure. I was thankful that I had something to eat.

“Billie will teach you how to make love to women,” Athena instructed. “Will you tell me why you never made love in your old life?”

“Fear, ma’am,” I had just finished my meager meal. “After being sterilized and circumcised the staff at Ares terrorized me to the point where I didn’t want anything to do with physical intimacy. A vasectomy took only about thirty minutes and circumcision not that much longer. Recovery was about an hour and normal activities could be resumed in a week. They used one dose of drugs to knock me out and I was given aspirin to reduce inflammation. If there were no complications, that was it—unless we were deemed to be naughty. Then other bits were sliced off. It took three hours to remove testes and scrotum. Healing took a month. Basic recovery from surgery was about three hours, but physical activities were limited. Removing some or all of the penis was done when boys didn’t behave themselves. All legal under California’s eugenics laws.”

“You don’t have to worry about being unmanned,” Billie said. “I didn’t want to be a boy. Ever hear of Christine Jorgensen? Successful sex change has been around since 1930.”

“You haven’t complained once,” Athena said.

After a long silence, Athena commanded that we follow her to her office. Inside, she handed me a folder with photos and reports. I scanned the documents.

“I want you to investigate Marilyn Monroe’s death,” Athena said. “There is a coup in progress. I want you to start with Marilyn.”

“Where will I work, Miss Athena?” I asked. My questions included my access to information and where I was going to store my findings. Last, but not least, I inquired about my deadline. A week? A year?

“We don’t have a year,” Athena replied. “I was told that you discovered Stalin’s counter to the American atomic bombers being put in England during the Berlin Blockade. That your work paid off during the October war scare.”

“Please, tell me more, ma’am,” I asked. “What happened during the Cuban Missile Crisis?”

“Don’t play me for a fool, Jackie,” Athena scolded. “You located and kept track of a network of assassination teams that targeted American bomber crews in Europe—and you suggested that in America we take similar countermeasures. During October your teams captured several hundred of those assassins and you personally killed six.”

“Not my secrets, ma’am,” I claimed. “Now I’m beginning to see a benefit or two to this new life. When was I born again? Was that 1940 or 1941? I’ll need to know for my driver’s license in a few days.”

“You deny that you used to be United States Army Counter Intelligence Corps Special Agent Donald Oscar Knight, code name Fritz?”

“Didn’t he die recently, ma’am?” I mustered up all of the pretend innocence I could. “Are there any links connecting Jacqueline Lee Dunn to this Donald Oscar Knight? Does Fritz exist any longer?”