"Luttami! Get down here!" The roar was exceedingly persuasive in its tone. Nevertheless, instead of descending to face my creditors, I decided to follow the long-ignored prodding from my dear father. My biweekly remittance had been redirected into the post office of a remote group of hovels called 'Tankai'. He might as well have suggested that I died already.

As inconvenient as it was to the family name, I preferred to cling to the embarrassment of my existence. The desolate frontier awaited, with its tribal savages and desperate prospectors. Rebels, exiles, fugitives and failed politicians all dissolved into the fabric of the trackless prairie. In the winds of Narshur blew the antidote to chronic cases of insolvency and disrepute.

I jumped up from the mess of bedsheets and balanced a spinning head on my shoulders. The reflection in the large mirror startled me. The tonics had worked wonders, even on my dwindled budget. Gone was the reasonably athletic youth, replaced by this soft feminine thing. To be fair, the difference was mostly in the utter lack of body hair.

My indulgence in Conglomerate theatre had started the mess. It would break me out of it.

There was little time to flinch at the girliness of my new hips or the smoothness of my skin. I slipped on the new corset and pressed the lump to tighten the poor critter as much as its muscles could handle.

A pained wheeze was all that was left of my breath by the time the corset was done. Even with unhealthy amount of tonics, one week had barely been enough to train my body to suffer ladylike proportions. In the absence of a bosom, the waist had to pull double duty to create the impression of feminine lines.

The ceaseless draft of the sickly hotel chilled my vulnerable legs. Fortunately I hadn't neglected to get a pair of stockings. Though the thin fabric clung to the skin, it was better than nothing against the cold of the Narshurian spring. To make sure the socks wouldn't fall off, should I have to run, I latched the garters into the corset's girdle.

The gown had faded into dark rusty brown, and the hem hid only a simple petticoat to give it volume. Such utter drabness would avoid notice in a crowd. With my hair tied behind my head, the mirror showed the visage of a tragically plain servant girl, perfectly mousy and uninteresting.

Haphazard use of common tonics could enact the physical changes, even if few were willing to go through the agony of the process. I was lucky to have experienced no major allergic reaction, which usually accompanied unsupervised tonic use. Even then, my vigour was spent from the ordeal. Several weeks would go by, before my body was ready for the reversal. Any sooner, and the strain might collapse my inner organs.

Noise below grew in intensity. The hotel had a reputation for the stubbornness of its host. In a border town infested with fugitives and other scum, loose lips were bad for long term business prospects.

More drastic physical changes required surgery or risky osteophages, thus my face still looked mine. I applied makeup with all of my limited experience at the amateur stage. Thick lines of burned blossom around my stereotypically large Jaan eyes, and purple shadows on the lids. My lips looked positively plump with the extruded carmine on them. Such simple but garish display would have to do. This wasn't the capital, where no self-respecting woman appeared in public so poorly enhanced. In the frontier, my disguise should hold even direct scrutiny, at least as long as my face wasn't familiar.

If the enforcers after me were even half-competent, there would be a look-out outside the building. Better for me to leave through the front door to avoid unanswerable questions. With the hem in my hand and small bag of essentials in another, I hurried out of the room and to the stairs.

Down in the lobby, the taciturn host faced the browbeating of a lethal-looking pair. The gaunt woman wore barely concealed armour, while the tall man was only a few inches short of a Conglo ant-soldier. The Conglomerate bred their elite troopers to handle weaponry, which weighed as much as the average soldier of our Commonwealth. This man's mother must have been a thoroughly satisfied woman.

Had Luttami of rumour a gun, both would be dead, before they heard the needler shots. My name made fingers twitch at triggers. These days I regretted having cultivated such a reputation. My near-genteel stomach positively refused to tolerate any thought of bloodletting. I swallowed the vanguard of vomit in my throat and went down.

"Is 'Luttami' that scrawny fop?" I asked. The rabble accent, which I had once affected often, strained in my throat. Perhaps I had overdone my dosage, as my voice had become terribly high.

The brute grunted an affirmative, while the woman continue to argue with the host.

"That lout waved a needler around and dropped from the window to the side street." I twisted my painted face into a sneer. "Didn't even pay me!"

The pair shared a glance and dashed out. I followed right at their heels. If the host had recognised me, he did nothing to indicate so. In such seedy holes of human habitation, it paid not to skimp on the upfront payment. I'd be long gone, before he'd realise the foreign banknotes were as genuine as my countenance.

My pursuers curved towards the side of the building. I strode towards the canal station with my hem lifted, as the ancient pavement had sunk deep in the hateful mud. I was out in the open, in the guise of an affordable floozy. Blood sang red in my ears, but I managed not to gaze around to see, if my guise attracted any attention.

The canal station was only a few streets away from the hotel. I smiled to myself. Even if the destination was to be terribly dreary, to travel a dry continent on a boat was a novel experience.

Each scholar had their own harebrained idea of why the ancient Vaddites had built their canal network across the extend of the Narshurian continent. As a histrionic dilettante, I too had a hypothesis: Vaddites had sensed their extinction coming and had desired to leave something for the future generations to puzzle over.

Academic eggheads weren't fond of my idea, understandably. To them, everything had to have been for a rational purpose. As if humans acted with reason. And humans the Vaddites had been, even though many old-fashioned Jaan called them 'revered ancestors'. What sort of gods needed plumping? Zealots had to excuse my irreverence, for I had personally utilised such sacred machinery.

With the transportation infrastructure already in place, Narshur should have been prime real estate for imperial powers to squabble over. However, beyond the unforgiving climate, it seemed whatever had killed the Vaddites wasn't entirely gone. Large settlements risked plagues that infected both humans and tools alike. Smaller and widespread habitation appeared immune, as did the semi-nomadic clans.

The 'Vad plague' it was called, even though it was not any singular disease. According to the papers, the ailment materialised as anything from a joint flu to a bizarre epidemic of specific type of cancer.

Whatever the reason was for the low-burning pandemic, it had kept the great continent a perpetual periphery. The Jaan Directory claimed the whole land from Our Sea to the distant Tyrannic Ocean, even if we had only a few meagre forts scattered across the interior to show for the conquest.

The canal train was led by a repurposed liner ship, which sported the distinctive flaky chitin of venerable age. Behind it, the line of containers appeared unevenly watertight, but luckily the canal had barely any water to sink into.

Steamy breaths and jabbering in a plethora of languages filled the air. The embarkation platform overflowed with a crowd. Those, who weren't woefully overdressed for the weather tended to be tragically underdressed. For three weeks, the saloons had buzzed with the talk of a relic rush. Probably another sham anyhow, but useful to me. One 'girl' would melt into the river of hopefuls.

Among the mass of eager and despondent men were a few equally misguided women. Most prospectors had no idea of what they unearthed from the ruins. They'd be easy prey for capricious archaeologists and other professional looters. Few ever returned, not even as destitute wastrels. Narshur ate fools, and no doubt I too would end up thoroughly digested.

From time to time, someone struck rich and managed to escape back to civilisation to tell the tale. Thus the purveyors of prospecting equipment kept themselves wealthy. In retrospect, investment in merchant business would have been less volatile than the cards.

I pushed into the throng, just as the ant-soldier's yell boomed behind me. With my luggage above my head, I pushed past those more encumbered. Nobody stopped me, though my passing did raise consternated cries.

The conductor checked tickets at the entrance. The train really didn't want any stowaways.

"Your ticket, miss."

"Here, sir." I put on my best smile and spread it into my eyes. Foreigners liked to claim Jaan girls snared spells around any man's heart with just their gaze, but I obviously lacked practice in such magic.

The conductor gave me a dull stare. "This ticket is unstamped for a seat."

"So? It's a ticket still."

"We reckon the train will be cramped, so you must get a seat claimed."

"Can't you make an exception?" My eyes twitched around me with rising tension. I'd sit on a man's lap rather than let the Conglo ogre catch me.

"Miss, move asi––"

A large hand grabbed my shoulder. I turned my stiff neck to face the man beside me. He wasn't the ant-soldier, even if he was almost as big. The night green cloak made him stunningly grand, yet a kindly smile peeked behind the close-cut beard.

"The miss travels with me", the stranger said in urbane tones. "Here's my ticket and the claim for our booth. There is no need to stamp the seat in a booth, correct?"

Above the crowd behind us, the ant-soldier's head bobbed, as his massive arm waved at the train. I hurried to nod at the conductor.

"Very well, sir."

My rescuer guide me on to the train with a firm grip. Neither of us spoke on our way to the small travel compartment.

"What are you doing?" I asked, when the door closed.

He threw his voluminous hat of loose fibrewool on the shelf. "Oh, was this rescue unwanted?"

"Rescue from what?" I kept my bag in front of me. The man couldn't know it was too light to work as a weapon.

"You're on the run, probably from that myrmidon at the pier."

I tried to look confident, which admittedly was difficult with our difference in size. "What's your aim?"

"Just trying to help." He placed his large suitcase on the floor. "I'm Vesija Aamkena, a travelling chirurgeon by trade."

"Neru." The name of the heroine in the play 'Tainted Honeydew'. "As in Nerutaara."

He sat down. "Nothing more to tell about yourself?"

Though he appeared amiable, a full-blooded man would expect some variety of repayment. It might be nothing more serious than conversation, a bit of positive attention, but I lacked the ability stop him, should he feel frisky.

The compartment wobbled.

"That must be your friend", Vesija said. "A rebuffed lover perhaps? Sit here." He tapped the bench next to him.

Footsteps thumped in the aisle with too much weight for any normal man. I hurried to sit next to the chirurgeon. Before I could yelp in protest, he wrapped his cloak around me and pressed me against his massive warmth. Firm fingers untied my hair.

"Let's kiss for the audience."

My mind couldn't process the words, before Vesija had leaned down. The heat of his breath, with the hint of crisp herbs, pulsed through my nasal nerves. Yet he kept his lips two inches away from mine.

Behind me, the window on the door was touched. A woman cursed in the aisle. A massive creature grunted and shifted the whole floating compartment with its steps away from me.

Vesija let go, and I clambered to the other end of the bench. His eyes were nailed into mine, but there was no mockery in his gaze, in spite of my appearance.

"Would you happen to have any experience with tonics, miss?"

My composure must have cracked like spring ice. "Who doesn't?"

"You shouldn't be up this soon after such a thorough regimen."

"What do you mean?" My voice retreated into haughty accent in the upper register. So ruffled was I that I couldn't help but sound like an agitated nobleman, save noticeably more squeaky.

The man's smile stretched more lopsided. "Don't be alarmed. Only a trained professional can notice the signs: the elevated body temperature, the flared pupils, the fine scent of tissue-consumption, slight overtones from unsettled vocal cords."

Even if I had chanced to meet one who could see, what I was, my disguise had ultimately fooled the debt enforcer. My options were to drop the act and embarrass myself, or continue with being audaciously feminine.

"Indeed", I said. This time the arrogance was deliberate in my voice. "I've been travelling abroad, in the Conglomerate for most part. There it is convenient to be considered a man. Since I arrived to the frontier, I've been on a regimen to assume a properly feminine appearance."

"Ah, I see. While Narshur isn't as lawless as the chip dreadfuls make it to be, I still wouldn't recommend women to travel there alone."

"But I have you here for protection, don't I?"

My smile was as coy as I managed to make it. Vesija appeared pleased like a baby with a mouth full of sweets. A man like him shouldn't have needed to pick up wastrels from the streets. I would be lucky to escape from him with my insides still in their places.

"Are you well acquainted with the land yourself?" I asked.

"Oh, decently so, if by 'the land' you mean the Jaan settlements."

"So you travel around lancing the boils of prospectors?"

"That too. Most of my profit comes from the conditioning and selling of tonics. Different types of performance enhancers are in constant demand on the frontier."

"Oh, are you wealthy then?"

"Not at all. I do dress extravagantly to seem more prosperous than I am, to reassure my clients of my competence." Vesija stood up to remove his cloak and coat. Underneath, he was just as burly as he had seemed. The sleeves of his shirt strained against casually bulging thew, and the front begged to be opened.

If a man with such heavy machinery for arms forced me into anything, nobody could consider me feeble. He must have partaken in his own 'performance enhancers'. My eyes wandered downwards, but I stopped myself from gauging, whether or not something else had been tonically improved.

"What about you, Neru?" He sat respectably far away from me. "Will you now tell me about yourself?"

I decided to keep my story as close to truth to avoid mixing up the lies. "I'm from one of those old, proper Old, Jaan families, which pretend to be important, but are nothing but fellow commoners with additional social obligations. I was sent away to stop me from being an embarrassment. On the way, I risked and lost a lot of money, which wasn't exactly mine to lose."

"That explains the pursuers." The chirurgeon remained silent for a moment, with his analytical gaze bored into me. The concentration only broke, when the liner in front wailed, and the train jerked to motion.

"This is your last chance", Vesija said. "The train only stops at tiny outposts on the way to Tankai. If you run now, you should be able to evade your pursuers till you can hire a carriage." He pulled a few slivers worth of banknotes from his pocket. "Take this."

My head cocked in question.

"I wouldn't want this rescue to remain unfinished."

"You almost stole a kiss from me, and now you act all chivalrous." I lifted my chin. "Keep your money."

The man returned the notes back in his pocket. He went to lock the door and pulled the curtain on the small window.

I knocked on the wall above the bench. "By the way, I'm sure I would be heard, if I screamed loud enough."

"They might think you were having a good time." The chirurgeon sighed. "Unfortunately, we can't have much privacy between each other."

"Somehow, I doubt you mind."

"I do understand, how you might feel threatened." The man turned and let the suitcase sniff his hand.

The beast unfurled its spindly legs, stood up to table-level and opened its lid. The suitcase had barely any clothes beyond a spare robecoat. Instead, the space was mainly taken by what I assumed to be alchemical arcana.

Vesija dug a pistol out. "Do you have a gun in your bag? If not, you can keep mine for safety."

I reached for the weapon, which he gave me without question.

It was a purely pneumatic needlegun of common modular manufacture. Low metabolism; suitable for inattentive owners but tardy to charge. Good for self-defence, if you never expect to actually shoot it.

"You shouldn't keep this loaded", I said. "You never know, when they get a flu and sneeze."

"Surely that can't actually happen?"

"It might." I removed the three standard bone needles and unclasped the valve. While the needler hisses out its gas reserve, I spun it around my finger like a madcap.

When the gun was almost safe, I slowly aimed it at Vesija's head. Before he could react, I flipped it around and handed it to him.

"If you want a gun that's ready to use at a moment's notice, you need to splurge on quality."

Vesija took the needler and put it back into the suitcase. "I can't say I've expected to use it. In a true peril, I'd hesitate and end up shot, no doubt."

"I wouldn't know anything about that." My smile tried to imply playful mystery, even though I was entirely sincere.

"So, you will stay? Alone, the trip bores one to death, hyperbolically speaking." The hope was blatant on his face. It was rather odd to think that someone appreciated my mere presence.

"I was going this way in any case."

"Wonderful. Even if your company already brightens my expectations, I'd prefer to have something to do. What would you say, if we made a project of veering your appearance towards the fashionably feminine?"

"That is a rather direct suggestion!" I cleared my throat. "I can't possibly afford that with my current finances."

"To stave off my boredom is welcome payment enough." Vesija patted his suitcase. "Besides, you'd participate in the last stage of product testing."

"What tonics do you have?" I asked with a tone of non-commitment.

Vesija took out a sturdy resin box. "I have a few ready-to-use articles right here, but I can manufacture a wide variety of specialised drugs. But first, I need to know, what sort of regimen you have gone through."

"Just women's basics from the apothecary."

The chirurgeon nodded. "Let me perform a blood analysis, before we decide on how to proceed. Unsupervised tonic-use has the lamentable tendency to deregulate the humours."

"Alright." I let him take an ampoule out of my veins.

Vesija fed the contents into a fancy apparatus. After a bout of wet sounds inside the small machine, the chirurgeon examined the changing dots on its back. His brows furrowed. "The endocrine disturbance is severe. It might be wise to just reset your inner chemistry to a feminine base level." Vesija handed me a small flask. "Here."

"Do you expect me to drink this without knowing what it is?"

"You can read the label."

"'Gynoaugmentive Elixir of Youthful Vigour'. That doesn't explain a whole lot."

"It's an uninvasive regulator that mimics the desirable effects of a female puberty. Its effects is largely humoral. Usually it's men, who buy it as a gift to their lovers, for its effects on the libido. Of course, the shifts in adipose tissue can be considered welcome."

"You mean breasts."

"More than that. And it's not just soft tissue, which alters. Unlike more common tonics, this product works on the very bones. Not only will it help the bones grow, it will slender them where needed."

"I took a similar tonic to reverse the effects of masculinity on my skeleton. It didn't do much."

"Understandable. Anything sold in an apothecary would by necessity lack in effectiveness to avoid disastrous complications."

The liquid was viscous and clear, but filled with tiny movement, which I doubt anyone with normal eyesight could have seen.

"How can this stuff know what to do?" I asked. "As far as I know, the human body has no healthy processes to eat away bone."

"Quite astute." Vesija remained silent for a while. "Frankly, I haven't been able to determine the exact method. The tonics seems to detect the structural changes since puberty, and rework them based on the current hormonal levels. The alterations aren't all that drastic even in my product, to be honest. To minimise the risk, I've conditioned the osteophagic function to remain modest, to avoid harmful loss of bone density."

I drew my mouth into a line. "What if... What if I wanted to travel abroad as a man again?"

"Unlike in most tonics of this type, the hormonal regulation isn't ephemeral. You'd have to reverse it with another regimen, but that is manageable. My 'Androenhancer' would do the trick, and then some." Vesija shifted his shoulders to emphasise the shape of his musculature, like a proper showman.

The flask was heavy for its size. I tilted it to feel the leaden liquid shift. "Do I have to pay for this?"

"No. Beauty is its own reward." His smile infuriated in its gentle sincerity.

It was silly to even contemplate drinking an elixir intended for dried-up women. My disguise was only to get the debtors off my back. But to decline a valuable gift was suspicious. I had to make sure I roused no misgivings, before I was in the clear with my remittance in hand.

Without further consideration, I uncorked the flask and downed the thickly sweet drink. A shiver thrilled up my spine: the same delightful dread, which accompanied my foolish outings on the stage or aggressive play at the cards.

"Are there any side effects I should know of?" I asked.

"None to be worried about, miss. Slight fever, brief joint ache, passing galactorrhea associated with the mammoplasia." Vesija turned to the window. "We should be well out of the town by now." He opened the curtain.

The sudden light blinded me, until I managed to blink my tender eyes back into focus. Outside, windswept piles of snow struggled to cover a dead-brown grassland. Trees stood in clumps like tall islands. A line of telegraph followed the canal, its bundles of nerve drooping with lack of maintenance.

Behind everything, a silver-crowned mountain, the 'Pylon of the World', rose in imposing majesty. The striking azure of the sky reminded me of Vesija's eyes. It easy to check if my memory was correct. The man really loved to stare at me.

"My hunch was correct", he said. "You do have the sort of organic beauty, which revels in natural light."

I stifled a guffaw and took a small lady's nacre out of my bag to examine the reflection of my face. The hastily applied makeup was nearing a disaster. My old hygiene sponge woke from hibernation and was happy to clean my face.

A sudden sense of vulnerability pushed to overwhelm me. But it couldn't be helped: I wasn't able to hide behind paint for all of the train journey.

"Can you repeat your assessment?" Stage practice paid out: I sounded coquettish instead of terrified.

"My patients can trust in my expertise. There's no need for a second opinion."

I forced my eyes back into the scenery. We sat unspeaking, until Vesija filled the silence with tales of his earlier travels in Narshur. Even his mundane escapades sounded embellished with trouble, as befitted a salesman. The fact that he tried to impress me was entertainment enough.

"You claimed Narshur was safe."

"I didn't." He grinned. "Can you fault me for trying to make my life sound exciting?"

"You made it seem like a yarn suitable for a particularly unpretentious novel. Still, such daring is not too unbelievable with your frame."

Though mellow, the compliment encouraged his smile further. In truth his body wasn't exceptional, now that my mind wasn't foggy from the fear of the ant-soldier. Any man could have such broad shoulders and thick arms under a tonic regimen, if they kept to regular exercise. Of course, that was in itself impressive in a life on the road.

A girl might luxuriate in the powerful hold of those arms, or anguish helplessly if taken against her will. My corset grew uncomfortable, but I didn't dare to loosen it. He might realise from the lumpy shape of my torso, what I was. If he didn't already know. Maybe he merely humoured me. At the circus, throngs of people paid to gawk at freaks and deviants. Maybe the amusement was what I paid my train ride with.

Let him watch. If he enjoyed the sight of me, all the better.

Night came early in the late winter. The window was nothing but smooth black, dotted with stars and sparse camp lights.

The lamps of our compartment were sluggish wretches and barely managed a sickly bluish glow. I took the bed, which folded out of the wall opposite of the bench. Vesija set up a spare blanket as divider to give me a resemblance of privacy. Were it not for my deception, it would have been purposeless, as unclothed I was very much a male.

The implication that I needed protection from his eyes warmed me inside. It was rather gentlemanly of him, after all, that he offered me privacy without question.

What wasn't entirely genteel of him, was the boorish way he snored. Before I could be annoyed by the monstrous din, the sway of the container lulled me into sleep.