“Tell me, why do you want to be a woman, Roger?” The female
doctor looked out the top of her glasses. Her long blond hair accented her face
and softened her eyes.
Roger collected his thoughts for a moment, “I don’t want to
be any ‘ol girl, doc. I want to be a Melandian woman.”
“I see,” the doctor said. “You have a very specific idea of
who you want to be.”
“I do.”
The doctor drew the pencil from behind her ear, licked the
tip and started writing on the pad of paper on her lap. The doctor looked up. “Why
a Melandian woman?”
“Oh, doctor, you don’t understand. Melandian women are so
smart and pretty, and…and in control.”
The doctor smiled. “I see. Wouldn’t it be easier travelling to
the Melandian Colony world and finding a wonderful Melandian woman as a bride?”
“It would be easier, doc,” Roger said, “but not the same.”
“What would you do if you were a Melandian woman?”
“I would book flight to Melandia Colony and find me an
awesome Melandian husband to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Okay,” the doctor giggled. “You convinced me. Step into the
transformation chamber.”
Xena was born that day; Roger died. Xena did exactly what
she said she would. She booked flight to Melandia, trained with a Melandian
woman perfecting her feminine skills, found an awesome man, and made him happy
for the rest of his life.
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