Identity Theft

A Weyland supermarket was completely unlike other supermarkets. In one sense, that was because it had monopolized the retail business to the point where there were no other supermarkets. But in another, kinder sense, that was due to The Weyland Trust’s Commitment to American Exceptionalism™. As the advertising proclaimed: it wasn’t merely a supermarket, it was a super-supermarket, a new-age revivalism of vintage department stores and shopping malls. It sold commodities and trinkets next to food fresh and frozen, pills and just-baked bread mixing together into one massive hedonistic mess, a gaping maw gathering the unnecessary and the unwanted. If it was a commitment to anything, it would be excess. The German F-state had a word for it, one I learned from Germund: Konsumtempel, both a temple for consuming and a temple what consumes. I had my own word for it, though: work.

The wind outside howled through the streets, but I gripped Thalia’s hand tight and felt warmer for it. She, for her part, had placed her jacket on top of my hoodie. “Radiator lesbian,” she’d explained, as though it ought to mean something. The automatic doors whirred silently open on their well-oiled wheels when we approached the building, and as we stepped into the climate-controlled store its massive temperature regulators environed our pocket of wintry air.

“Ah! Hel—”

Time seemed to pause as Jared lifted his head from his station, wide grin forming as he saw me. His eyes darted over to the figure beside me, then down to our enclasped hands. Any stirrings of a smile dissipated and he turned upwards to look at me, finally taking notice of the denim cap I had added to my usual outfit. The corner of his mouth twitched, and for a single moment I swore he was sneering at me.

I gripped Thalia’s hand tighter. I didn’t know how he’d react, but I was glad to have emotional support beside me.

“This your girlfriend,—”

“Chloe.”

“Pardon?” He raised a chilly eyebrow.

“My name is Chloe,” I repeated, voice shuddering.

Jared jerked his head over in the direction of the back room. “You. Me. Talk. Now.”

I nodded, but took only one step before Jared interrupted.

“Not… not with them. Just us alone.”

I let go of Thalia’s hand, grumbling lightly. She squeezed my hand, somewhat unwilling to part ways, and gave me a glance that spoke to the depths of her worry. I shot back a weary smile and mouthed the words ‘It’ll be okay’ before extricating my digits from their complex entanglement with hers. She seemed to reluctantly accept the terms, and took a step back to lean against a poster on the wall. I continued onwards into the back room, viscerally feeling the absence of comforting pressure that her grip had brought.

“So,” Jared began, flicking on a nearby lightswitch. A series of hanging incandescent lightbulbs pushed the darkness back with their orange glow. It was an antiquated space, kept clean but not comfortable.

“So,” I mirrored, wary of what he’d do.

Jared stood silent for a minute, letting the distance between us stretch. “I’m disappointed in you, man.”

I stood still, unsure of what he meant for me to do.

“I thought you got it. Really got it. Like me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Got what?”

He gestured at the space around him. “This whole thing, man. It’s a big damn sham. Everything. It’s all appearances, all PR, all fake. Doesn’t even exist.”

“What—”

“The store. The society. Does it matter? They’re both the same thing.” He waved his hands in the air above him. “This store doesn’t even turn a profit.”

“So?” I took a step back.

“The most valuable trait an employee here could have is knowing how to not give a s—, fake it and put on a show for the customers. A great big game of shadow puppets.” He snorted. “Corporate keeps us afloat, so long as we keep up their image and don’t cause a stir.”

“I don’t see how—”

“Then you,” he said, advancing a step and causing me to back up further, “go ahead and pull something like this. For what? You’re never going to be a girl. Why would you even want to?”

I made a noise of bleak frustration. “I don’t know why I want to, Jared, I just do.”

He stared at me, blue eyes cold. “Well, if you want to pursue that kind of lifestyle then go ahead, but you won’t be doing so on Weyland’s payroll.”

“It’s against company policy to fire employees simply for being trans,” I spoke carefully. 

He fixed his eyes upon me with a look of utter disdain. “Oh please, that’s just on the books for PR. Weyland has an image of traditional values to uphold. Hiring trans employees is just going to jeopardize that.”

We stood in silence for a moment. If there was ever a moment for me to rant and rave, to scream at Jared about how he was a terrible boss, it would be now. But that would only give him an excuse to fire me, and perhaps more importantly, he didn’t deserve the effort. I had more effective ways of making known the seething rage that bubbled just below the surface of my trembling voice.

“I’ll sue,” I said, though we both knew I wouldn’t.

Jared let a smug grin appear on his face. “Right, as though the Court would listen to your dirt-poor ass. I’ve seen that ramshackle apartment building you call a home.” I kept my face staid, even as he said his next words. “Hand in your phone and your uniform. You’re off the team.”

I sighed, perhaps a little overdramatically, and made for the exit, feeling a tad numb and disoriented from my sudden shift in fortunes, but as I got closer Jared blocked me with his arm. “I meant now,” he snarled.

I reached into my pocket and retrieved my phone, still ensconced in its protective plastic shell. “No alterations,” I reported, “as per policy.” I had meaner words to say, but just now it didn’t seem appropriate.

Jared took the phone with a grim look of satisfaction, but soon turned his hungry glare back onto me. “Uniform next. Take it off.”

I held my breath. “No,” I replied placidly.

His eyes darted around suspiciously before settling into a narrow glare, an anger I’d seen directed at others before, but never me. Still. “Not returning company property? Disobeying a superior? You just gave me something to write about on the company logs under your firing, bucko.”

“You’re exactly right.” I nodded and shoved past him, barely able to contain a smile. Almost able to contain my tears.

Thalia was waiting by the entrance, her expression of worry reciprocated by my own feverishly beating heart: now that I was out of the adrenaline of the moment, it seemed like all the emotions I’d kept off my face were coming back all at once. Jared was—I wanted—I couldn’t believe—I should’ve seen—Thalia rushed forward and pulled me into a tight, comforting embrace. I sighed into her shoulder, surreptitiously wiping my eyes on her sleeve.

“Are you alright?” she whispered into my ear.

“No,” I murmured back, “but we should leave all the same.”

She made a grunt of acknowledgement, not approval, and led me back out into the cold with an arm around my shoulder. I hugged the jacket tighter to my person. The climate-controlled air within the store was nice, but it was eternally recycled, heat maintained but stifling. The air outside stung, but at least it was fresh.

“You wanna talk about it?” Thalia asked as we walked along the sidewalk to—nowhere in particular really, but I needed to walk. I felt like if I stood still right now I’d explode from the pressure.

“Yes. Please.” And I explained what had happened in the back room, retracing the conversation in all its sharp edges and impenetrable arcs. I saw Thalia’s face grow steadily more distressed, her other hand balled into a fist. I got to the part about him making me change and hesitated out of concern for her emotional self-control.

“That can’t be the end of it,” Thalia stated, a sharp edge creeping into her tone of voice. “I’m going to go back and deck him once for you.” She raised her fist up and tensed it, as though testing the equipment.

I gave her a wry smile and reached into the pocket of my hoodie. “Please don’t.”

She relaxed, but not enough to completely remove the anger from her next words. “He deserves worse than he got.”

“Well, at least I got severance pay.” I shrugged and fished out Jared’s wallet from my hoodie. “There’s not much, but it should be enough to tide me over until I find a new job.” A smile broke out on Thalia’s face that eventually devolved into laughter emanating from us both.

We spent a while just walking together and enjoying the silent presence of the other party before Thalia spoke again. “You know, back there… he said I was your girlfriend.” She loosened her grip on my hand, an offer for me to break our chain. I refused, keeping our grasps intertwined. “Thoughts?” she finished smoothly, and in far fewer words than I would have used.

Thoughts on… being girlfriends with Thalia? I stopped in my tracks, a little dazed at the question. I was certainly closer to Thalia than anyone else, but girlfriends? I didn’t even know what that entailed. I’d never had a partner before, and romance wasn’t a part of my life. Still, there was that underlying attraction: she was definitely very pretty, and sometimes when my eyes wandered over in her direction and she turned and caught my gaze I—

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

And she smiled, of all things, and laughed in that charming style where her head tilted back and her eyes crinkled at the corners. 

“But I think you’re right,” I said, diverting the conversation away from our relationship. “Jared deserves a little more than he got. His company credit card wasn’t even in this wallet.”

Thalia brought her other hand to her face, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “I think we both know someone who can help with that.”

---

“Right,” Alice drawled, “and you say it’s completely unguarded?”

I shook my head. “Not quite, but I know the schedule of the place. And it’ll take them a little while to replace me, meaning that there should be minimal security from seven in the morning on—”

Alice raised up her hand. “I’ve heard enough, doll. I don’t arrange the details, just the broad strokes. Are you sure you wanna be the Johnson for this one?”

I hesitated. “I—I dunno, I’ve never really participated in anything like this, I was thinking I could just sell it to you like I do everything else?”

She shrugged. “Well, you can either put it up as a job someone else can take—I could find someone for it, you’d put up the cash to pay them, then you get the spoils after I take a cut. Otherwise, the alternative is…” She grinned, leaning over the counter. “You could just do it yourself.”

I gulped. “Me? I’m not, I couldn’t…“

“Seems to me like you’ve got the knowledge. And if you need more talent, well, Gebbeth back there probably would’ve been my first recommendation.” Alice’s grin opened wider. Were her teeth always that sharp? “Totally called it on the conspiracy thing, by the way. Sorry, doll, I’ll let the first month slide but you’re gonna have to pay for the rest.”

Thalia spoke up. “Cut it out, Alice. She didn’t realize and I didn’t either. It was an honest mistake.”

Alice stood up straight once more, lifting her hands up in a show of mock surrender. “Hey, I said the first month was free, wasn’t it? And like all scary drug dealers from the 90s, now that you’re hooked I’m gonna keep charging ya.” Seeing the look of cautious worry on my face she added, “Not very much. You’re buying estrogen, not dope. But you will need money, and seeing as how I so kindly offered…”

I pursed my lips together in thought. A moment passed, then two. “I don’t—I don’t know. I don’t know, I’ve never had to do this before. I’ve had to do a lot of new things the past several weeks, several items I’m not familiar with. I will need time.”

Thalia’s eyes were positively alight with fury, her stare boring a hole into Alice’s head. “Don’t you dare threaten her with withholding her medication. I will personally—”

“Ah ah ah.” Alice turned to her, interrupting. “You wouldn’t want to personally threaten a crime lord. Besides, I wasn’t going to do that. Doll got a tab for her drinks. She’ll also get a tab for her estrogen.”

My shoulders relaxed a touch. No threats in the immediate future, then. But beyond that, life grew hazy.

Alice shrugged. “‘Sides, all I’m saying is that you two’d make a fantastic team. I’ll find someone for your little heist, don’t worry. And there's always other, less risky labors. We can work our way up. I’ve got time. All the time in the universe.”

I smiled gratefully up at her. “So do we.”

Having not much else to do for the rest of the day, I went off and attempted to file a few applications at places I knew needed more hands. None seemed promising, but any chance was better than none. In truth, I would’ve gone with Thalia to her work, but she attended mostly to business of Alice’s sort: wandering the labyrinth of man’s creation, alone but not lonely, forgotten but not gone. The difference was that she wrote it down, and got paid handsomely to do it. I would’ve been a distraction—not insomuch as I would’ve gotten her caught, moreso that productivity is unlikely when one has a possible lover clinging to one’s side.

Besides, I noted, there were complicated feelings that needed sorting out on that front. And a bit of time alone—though perhaps not as much time alone as I had previously spent—could conceivably aid my self-realization. As I pondered the ins and outs of these brilliant and several new identities I had found myself assigned, I slowly perambulated my way back to the apartment complex.

---

TRANS SUPPORT MEETING INSIDE, the sign proclaimed. It looked as though someone had finally bothered to repaint it. FIVE THIRTY EVERY WEDNESDAY. SNACKS AND BOARD GAMES. Well, I pondered, it wasn’t particularly elegant. But then, none of us were. I gave the plastic a loving stroke with one hand while gripping Thalia’s fingers tightly with the other.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered to me. “This is probably the one place where you’re guaranteed to get a good reception.”

I only nodded in response.

“Besides,” she noted with more than a hint of amusement, “I think pretty much everyone is expecting it.”

“Everyone expects to die someday,” I snapped, “still sucks when it happens.”

Thalia raised an eyebrow, sole and solitary.

“...Sorry.” I turned my eyes to the floor. Part of the problem with letting my mask slip around Thalia was my tendency to say somewhat less-thought-out things.

And yet Thalia smiled, and gave our clasped-together fingers a gentle squeeze with her free hand. “S’alright, Chloe. I understand how tough this is gonna be. Just know I’m here.”

I breathed in, then out. And in again. And then pushed open the door to find my feet upon the cold linoleum once more. Thalia stuck close behind me, almost as though she were being led by the hand and not the other way round.

“Five thirty!” Kyle proclaimed as we entered the room. “And before we begin, I believe we have a special announcement!” The eyes of the group followed his gaze and turned upon me. I glanced nervously around at several of them. Fern was curious, Grace’s soft and weary, Kyle’s were gentle, and Uaine’s were as inscrutable as ever.

“Yes, ahem, well…” I cleared my throat again. Stalling for time, someone might uncharitably call it. “I’m. I’m a girl. She/her, please.” My heart was beating from me. A feeling of vertigo overcame my senses, and for a moment I felt like I was standing alone, reeling away from a world that was sure to reject me.

As time dilated and space expanded, I was left free-floating in space, with nothing but the incessant thunder of my heartbeat. Thalia gave my hand a deliberate squeeze and I reciprocated, hanging onto her as my final lifeline to mortality. Slowly, gently, I re-entered the stratosphere.

“That’s wonderful!” Kyle’s voice boomed, giving me the last bit of concrete reality I needed to come back to my senses. “Is your name still Chloe?”

“Um, yes,” I barely squeaked out. “Yes, it is,” I repeated, with greater volume.

“Called it,” Dinadan drawled, only to get unceremoniously elbowed in the ribs by Oliver. 

“That’s terrific, Chloe,” Grace reaffirmed.

“Quite,” Uaine said. “Welcome to the fold.”

The rest of the group spoke up, pronouncing their assent and heartfelt congratulations. I felt a strange stirring within my chest, and for a minute, an hour—an amount of time and nothing more—I allowed myself a measure of unadulterated joy.