MFS - 2 (Patreon)

Metamorphosis from the stars

Chapter Two

by Raine Monday

I rushed through the sterile walls of the medical wing, desperate to catch up. Questions swirled in my mind, demanding answers. What kind of injury had Emily sustained? When did it happen? Why hadn't anyone informed me?

Frustration surged within me as I shook my head and quickened my pace. Lieutenant Sarah Adams turned, her eyes meeting mine as we walked.

"Emily!" I called out, my voice filled with urgency. "Em, what happened?"

Emily pointed in my direction, and Sarah nodded in acknowledgement. I could always count on Sarah's support. With her red hair and laughing green eyes, she possessed a wry wit that matched my own.

"John, it's going to be okay," Sarah reassured me, grasping my arm to slow me down.

"What happened to her? What's the nature of her injury?" I pressed, my voice tense with worry.

Sarah intertwined her forearm with mine, gently guiding us as a medical team with a stretcher halted in front of Emily. She climbed onto the stretcher and lay down, still wearing her helmet.

"Slow down, John," Sarah advised, steering me away from the scene and toward a waiting room. "You won't be able to see her right now. They need to examine her."

"What happened out there, Sarah?" I pleaded, my desperation evident. As they disappeared behind the double doors, which locked firmly behind them, Sarah directed me into the waiting room.

"We don't have all the details yet, John," Sarah explained, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "She's...well."

Hank entered the room, his hands raised in a gesture of apology. "I know, I know. I should have let you know something was wrong, but I got caught up in the chaos and never found the chance."

"Hank, what happened to her? Is she okay? When can I see her?" I fired off my questions, a mixture of concern and frustration.

"As soon as she's settled and the doctor gives the go-ahead, I promise we'll get you in there, son," Hank assured me.

I sighed, feeling the weight of anxiety as I paced the confines of the small waiting room. "Why can't you tell me what happened?"

Hank glanced at Sarah, who gave a slight shake of her head.

"Look, in just a few moments, you'll know as much as we do. Just try to relax, buddy," Hank said, attempting to ease my restlessness. "Take a moment to collect yourself."

I nodded, allowing myself to sink into one of the chairs. Sarah sat beside me, her grip on my hand providing a sense of comfort in the face of uncertainty.

A little while later a Doctor came in, wearing a white coat. He was thin, lithe, with intense blue eyes and nervous fingers. He nodded at Hank.

“Hank, this here is Dr. Samuel Bennet. He’s on our team here at International Space Agency Command Center (ISACC) and is a damned fine geneticist to boot. He’ll be handling Emily’s case from soup to nuts.”

Dr. Bennet held out his hand and I shook it. It was clammy and cold for some reason. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson.”

“What’s happened, Doc?” I said. “Can I see her?”

He nodded, closing his eyes. “Mr. Anderson, Emily has experienced a strange but kind of wonderful, phenomenon.”

“What?” I said. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Best I can tell you is…somehow, some…way, her genetic material became intertwined with…well.”

He glanced at Hank. “I think we should just show you. Follow me.”

We walked out of the waiting room and I followed alongside the doctor who moved at a brisk pace. “Best we can figure is, her genetic material has co-mingled with Pan troglodyte.”

“What?” I said, shaking my head in confusion as I rounded the corner of her room.

Pausing at the doorway, I absorbed the scene before me. Emily sat upright in bed, surrounded by technicians and nurses attending to her comfort and monitoring her vital signs. She looked up at me and offered a smile.

But her face had changed. The familiar features—the pert nose, smooth lips, and delicate forehead—had been replaced by those of another creature, one with a more simian resemblance. It was as though Emily's face and Koko's had merged in some unfathomable way.

"Emily?" I stammered, struggling to comprehend the sight before me.

She mustered an awkward smile, her altered lips protruding from her human-like face. "Were you expecting someone else?"

I rushed to her side, gripping her hand tightly. "What has happened to you?" I asked, my voice filled with concern.

She smiled, gently squeezing my hand. "Well, it seems there's been something of an accident."

Refusing to believe what my eyes were witnessing, I pulled her closer, searching for any signs that this might be a cruel joke or some sort of mask. My fingers brushed against the sides of her face as her eyes dropped in embarrassment.

"I know I must look hideous now," she whispered softly.

"No!" I exclaimed, refusing to let doubt cloud my love for her. I kissed her passionately, our tongues intertwining. I had longed for this kiss, yearned for it, and I wouldn't let anything—whatever had happened—deter me. "You are as lovely as you have always been."

She kissed me back, and while the simian features on her face felt different—thicker, rougher—it was still her, still Emily, still my wife. And I had missed her.

"We need to get you in for an MRI," Dr. Bennet interjected, breaking the moment. "However, we can give you a few moments alone with your husband."

Emily nodded, her smile radiant. "Thank you."

The medical team left the room, and Sarah gave me a comforting pat on the shoulder before departing. I held my wife tightly in my arms, savoring her presence, her essence. We remained embraced for a while, seeking solace in each other's arms. Then I lifted her face to mine and kissed her again, showering affection on every part of her—her nose, her forehead, her cheeks.

"It was difficult after—" I began, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. After Eric, was what I wanted to say. She had thrown herself into work, embarking on this mission, avoiding the undeniable grief that had consumed us after the loss of our son.

I had stayed behind, visiting his tiny grave, offering flowers each month for a time, then annually on his birthday and the anniversary of his passing. Our little boy had departed for heaven without us.

She looked up at me, sorrow etched on her transformed face. "I'm sorry you had to face that alone."

I nodded, accepting her apology. "I don't blame you, and I want you to know that. We'll face this together, no matter what challenges lie ahead."

She nodded, closing her eyes. "Just hold me."

And I did, enfolding her in my embrace. I felt her soft sobs as she wept for our lost little boy and for the uncertainties of her changing appearance.

In the days to come, I knew I would need to remain steadfast in my love for her, unwavering and devoted. I would be there for her, no matter what the future held.