Doctors Howard and Sara Martin have been studying MORFS since MORFS first appeared. As some of the world's foremost experts on MORFS, they were ready when Larry and Cindy, their twins, came down with the condition. But before they could catch their collective breath, they received the opportunity to study MORFS from a completely different perspective.

sex: 2/10
violence: 4/10
profanity: 2/10

Categories: Male to Hermaphrodite, Female to Hermaphrodite, Hybrid, Elemental, PSI

Timeline: 2060

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Chapter One: The Beginning

How did it happen? That's the burning question, I'm sure. All you adults who ran the gauntlet of puberty and came out unfazed now have something to worry about -- or maybe not.

But hey, it's a long story. I'll try to keep it down to the essentials, but there is still a lot to tell. I do have to warn you, though, that I'll probably go into 'professor mode' a few times before I'm through. Sorry, but I can't help it. I have been a professor for a long time.

To start with, Sara and I were junior high sweethearts who stayed together for life. I know that doesn't happen much, but it happened to us.

Actually, we had known each other for our whole lives. We were always friends. Our parents were friends, and we played together when they got together. We even kept on playing together during the 'boys are yucky/girls are yucky' stage of our lives. When we started holding hands in fifth grade, we were teased a lot. We didn't care.

Oops... sorry about rambling. Didn't I promise not to ramble? I guess that's just one of those things of old age.

Anyhow, by high school, we knew that we would be together forever. There was no MORFS back then, so we didn't have to worry about one or the other of us going through a forced sex change.

We took all the college prep classes together. We could concentrate on our studies because we studied together. We were inseparable. While all the other kids were chasing boys or girls, dating, and partying, we spent our time together.

Oh sure, we did a little partying and went to concerts and stuff like that. Still, with a stable relationship, we didn't have to goof around posturing and searching. We enjoyed our time together -- studying, sitting on the couch and watching TV, walking in the park, floating down the river, or whatever.

When you enjoy what you're doing, and enjoy the person you're doing it with, you tend to do it well. We did school well, and both graduated with a perfect 4.0 average. We shared the number one spot in graduation, and both had to make a speech.

Then, it was off to college.

We were in our sophomore years when MORFS reared its head. With genetic engineering and molecular biology majors, we jumped on the bandwagon and started studying the transformation process.

MORFS was scary back then, but it was also a wonder.

It was scary because some people didn't survive it at first. Their bodies simply ran out of the raw materials needed to complete the transformation. Also, it dragged on for so long that the victims' bodies became too fatigued to go on. Interveinous feeding was the order of the day for those difficult cases. It didn't take long for the medical professionals to find out that giving the patients an abundance of nutrients sped up the process and reduced mortality.

Sara and I were undergraduates when the real push to develop what later became the modern 'stim pack' started. We can't claim to have played a major role in those early days, but we certainly spent enough time in the labs working under the guidance of the more senior researchers. We eventually came up with several versions. The preferred type is an interveinous solution that keeps working throughout the transformation process -- whether or not the patient feels like eating. We developed a solid bar and a drink for third world countries and remote locations, but they became popular among the general population because they could be used at home. Eventually, the biomedical engineers came up with the familiar home IV that the doctors affix to the patient's limb.

Once the immediate emergency was over, we could study the condition in earnest. There were lots of questions that needed answers, but we had set them aside while dealing with the critical issue of helping the victims survive.

First of all, how is it that MORFS hands out functional and usable changes, rather than random mutations?

The vast majority of the random mutations foisted upon living organisms do nothing at all. Of those that do something, the vast majority are useless or harmful.

While you can turn someone's brown eyes blue by changing a single gene, giving someone wings or extra arms or improved senses requires a complex set of genetic changes that are less likely to happen by random chance than having a monkey type out the complete works of Shakespeare in one shot -- and that's no exaggeration.

The fact that the changes are functional at all is exceedingly improbable. The fact that a large fraction of the changes vary from harmless to very useful really threw us scientists for a loop.

For that matter, how does it make changes to a mostly grown organism?

If you were to carefully make changes to the DNA that controls your body structure (a tiny minority of the DNA that you contain, by the way), and somehow copy those changes to every cell in your body, nothing would happen. The genes that carry the instructions for building our bodies are quiescent in an adult. In fact, almost all of them are quiet within just a few weeks after conception.

So, how does it happen? How does MORFS take the instructions for building a body and use them to change a body?

That's what Sara and I studied in graduate school. That's what our doctoral theses were about. That's what we spent our lives studying. That's what consumed us all through our young adult lives and on to middle age.

And yes, we learned a lot about it. You'll find the information in the dozens of papers we have published over the years, not to mention the handful of text books that we authored.

Chapter Two: The Surprise

We entered our fifties and realized that it was too late to have kids. Sara was showing signs of menopause. Her periods were starting to get a bit sporadic, so we didn't think anything of it when she went three months without that periodic visit from Aunt Flo.

Morning sickness? Hey, when you hit middle age, you get used to aches and pains. We were healthy, but we still had joints that were wearing out and stuff like that. A couple bouts of the morning barfies was barely noticed.

So there we were, a middle age couple who were looking forward to becoming parents for the first time. That's right; Sara started to show, and it wasn't floppy like fat. A trip to the doctor later, and we were in shock. Our families loved it, of course.

It's a good thing we had been doing all we could to say healthy. Even without the technology we were trying to develop, we expected to make it to the century mark.

As soon as we found out that Sara was pregnant, we started preparing. We set up two bedrooms for the kids.

That's right; kids. Plural. We don't do things half way. Sara was pregnant with twins.

We set up a laboratory in the basement so that we could continue our research while staying home. We hired Gladys, our house keeper, so that we could take the time that we usually use for routine home maintenance and spend it with the kids.

We kept our jobs at the school, but most of our research work was now done in our basement laboratory. We wanted to aggressively search for a way to trigger the somatic reconstruction that makes up stage two of MORFS. We wanted to rebuild our bodies to their youthful forms. If we could make a couple changes while we were at it, that's OK. Mostly, we just wanted to stay around long enough to see our kids grow up. We wanted to be healthy enough to enjoy a relationship with them as they grew to maturity. We wanted to meet our grandchildren. After all, we would be 74 years old when they were due to graduate from high school, and 78 when they got their four year degrees and entered graduate school.

As the blessed day approached, we both ended up spending more time at home. We decided to share a single part-time position at the university just so that we could keep our collective foot in the door. We had made some good investments, so it's not like we really needed the money. We just like being part of the action in the labs.

We took some family leave time when the kids were born. Sara and I poured out hearts into raising Larry and Cindy. We also poured our intellect into working in our lab. We ended up teaching one or two classes each semester, and the students used to joke about not knowing from day to day which Doctor Martin would be teaching.

As the kids grew, we got closer to an answer. Raising them added love to our lives, and gave us more incentive to extend our lives and stay healthy. Playing with them and sharing their dreams gave us a spark of youth in our souls that we hadn't realized that we had lost.

As they grew older, the kids each had to have their own labs. They wanted to play like Mom and Dad, but didn't necessarily follow in our footsteps and work with genetics or molecular biology. We didn't try to steer them in any particular direction. They are their own people, and need to find their own passion. If they want to play with physics or electronics or computer science, we'll support them all the way.

In fact, they both started to get an interest in a new branch of physics.

Even back when we were kids, people had postulated things like morphogenetic fields -- a pattern that guides the growth of organisms. Before that, they talked about the 'essence' of substances -- as if there were more to things than the mere matter. For instance, some experiments with homeopathy showed that, even after a substance is diluted so much that any sample is unlikely to contain even a single molecule, it can have some effect. Back in our day, the scientists rejected any evidence because it made no sense. Now, they are looking at it and wondering how it works.

Sara and I started studying all the research papers just so that we could answer Larry and Cindy's questions.

Then it hit us.

These patterns that seem to be engraved into the very fabric of the universe may be the missing part of the genetic code. They may also be the source of the metaphysical powers that some MORFS survivors gain. It makes sense that the instructions for the various telepathic, telekinetic, and elemental powers are coded in those patterns. That explains why we have never detected a DNA group for any of the powers.

This was exciting stuff. Imagine rubbing amber and silk to create static electricity, and then wondering what might come of it -- computers, television, electric motors, and the whole shebang.

We had already pretty much traced the path of the stray DNA that ends up in the genetic code of some MORFS victims. That was actually relatively simple. After all, early genetic engineers were rather consternated to find that the genes that they stuffed into our food crops refused to stay there -- creating super weeds. Roundup-ready soy beans planted one year would result in Roundup-resistant weeds a few years later.

But now, the missing part was finally falling into place. These patterns interacted closely with the viral DNA and the DNA of our bodies. It was almost as if it was simulating the results of the combinations and choosing combinations that were beneficial to the organism. We still didn't know how it was happening, but we were starting to be able to reproduce it.

We also postulate that our very souls are made of these patterns. That explains why most MORFS victims quickly adapt to their new form.

So, our best theory is that when someone comes down with MORFS, the person's DNA, any DNA from the trigger virus (MORFS is triggered by a regular cold or influenza virus), any stray DNA that can be pulled from the environment, and the person's soul all interact to create a new pattern and genetic code for the body. If the person's mind is reasonably healthy, the new form will reflect something that is within the soul of that person.

Yes, I know that the existence of a soul has never been scientifically measured or proven. Use a different word if you like. Assume that our consciousness is nothing but the firings of some neurons deep in our brains if you like.

There still seems to be something like a soul that makes us what we are, and is involved in the MORFing process. Call it what you like, and hypothesize all you want about its nature. You might even be right.

Sara and I were in the middle of running some tests and preparing some reports for the professional journals when it happened. The kids came down with MORFS.

Chapter Three: MORFS gets personal

We had seen MOFRFS enough to know what it was right away. We had induced it in enough laboratory animals to know exactly how to treat it. We have a big stash of stim packs and sleeping pills. Still, we took the kids over to the doctor to have it properly diagnosed.

A life time in the laboratory taught us the value of reading instructions and carefully doing things the right way. We had helped develop the drugs and nutrients used for treating the virus, but we read the doctor's instructions carefully. Then, we put our poor sick kids to bed and took care of them. As is our custom, we laid hands on them and prayed over them. "Lord, we thank you for these children. Please make their changes a blessing, and not a curse."

Once they were sleeping comfortably, we collapsed on the love seat and just held each other. Soon, Sneaky and Sassy, our seal-point Siamese cats, decided that it was time to demand attention. Anyone who is owned by a Siamese cat knows exactly what we mean.

The kids' case of MORFS was pretty much textbook. We should know, since we wrote the textbook. We watched the transformations. It looks like the genetic materials of our cats somehow got into the mix. There were no forced sex changes. We were happy about that because they both seem to be well adapted to their current gender.

I guess I should mention that we were watching that part of their development pretty carefully. You see, the apple doesn't generally fall all that far from the tree. The kids lucked out, though.

It's not like Sara and I are gender dysphoric to anything like that. The truth is that my gender is not a large part of who I am. My nerdiness, curiosity, and tendency to nurture and teach are a huge part of who I am. My spirituality is a big part of who I am. Also, Sara is a large part of who I am. I have been with her for so long that I don't really know who I am without her.

Sara is pretty much the same. We have different personalities, but a large part of who we are is that which makes us natural professors.

When either of us takes one of those gender identity tests, we come out in the 'versatile' category. We're in the middle, and happy to be there. We don't went to be controlled by our reproductive systems.

So, I have a number of feminine traits, and she has plenty of masculine traits. Being the oldest sister of a family of eight, she is pretty bossy. I tend to be stubborn, so she doesn't dominate me. Still, it took a couple decades to get to the point where we have a harmonious relationship.

I, on the other hand, tend to be rather emotional. Also, there have been many times when I wished I could wear nice clothes, perhaps indulge in cosplay. Don't get me wrong -- I wouldn't give up my maleness to become female. It would be great to do it part time, but a lot of me is very male.

Fortunately for Sara, it's socially acceptable for a female to dress and act male. She was quite the tomboy as a kid, and interacted well with the guys all through life.

I was one of the guys, too, but I also spent lots of time with the girls. I tended to be well liked by the girls because I was non-threatening. I was already attached and committed, and therefore not on the prowl. Also, I never pulled any of that male superiority stuff. All female teams were fairly common at school because if they let one male on the team, he would tend to want to take over. I never did that, so I was accepted gladly. Also, if they wanted Sara, they had to accept that I came along with the package.

But the kids are both very well adjusted to their gender. Larry isn't overly macho, and Cindy isn't overly girly, but neither seem to have any yearnings to take on the opposite role. Sara and I have watched for evidence, and have seen none.

The kids had plenty of surprises in store when they woke up, anyhow. They may not have to get used to a new gender, but they were by no means left untouched. I wonder what it's like having a tail, cat ears, and retractable claws.

Sara and I got some monitors from the lab and set them up so that we would have some warning before the kids woke up. The monitors contain EEG and vital sign sensors, and are designed to alert the lab workers when a subject is about to wake up. We didn't think that the kids would freak, but we figured that it would be a good idea to be there when they woke up.

At about 3:00 in the morning, the monitors went off -- both at the same time. Sara and I rubbed the sleep out of our eyes, threw on some clothes, and went into the kids' rooms. Sara decided to sit with Cindy, and I went over to Larry's room.

I silently slipped inside, said a quick prayer over Larry, and sat on a chair in the corner of the room.

After about twenty minutes, I heard Larry start to stir. It was too dark in the room for me to see more than a vague form as he sat up in his bed.

"Dad?", he asked.

"I'm right here, son. How do you feel?"

I walked over to his bed and put my hand on his shoulder. He got up out of bed and gave me a hug. You know that you've done a good job loving your children when you still get hugs from your teen-age boy.

He padded over and flicked on the light. He gave an amazingly cat-like screech, shut his eyes, and dimmed the lights.

I looked into his eyes and was surprised to see that they had changed from their former blue-green to a startling sapphire blue. More interesting, though, was the fact that his pupils were now slits. His eyes look a lot like our cats' eyes.

"Don't be too startled, Larry, but there have been a few changes. Overall, though, I think you are still quite the handsome lad."

He gave me his usual "Aw, dad!" and walked warily to the mirror. He jumped a bit, then started scrutinizing himself carefully. I could see the wheels turning, but it was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking.

"At least I won't have to buy new clothes," he commented. "We're going to have to cut a tail hole in all of my pants, though."

I smiled at him. "I'm really glad you didn't freak out on me."

Then, we set about the task of cataloging all his changes. The kids had helped us in the lab many times, so the exercise actually lent an air of normalcy to the situation. Sara and Cindy met us down in the lab, and we set about the task of giving them both a post-MORFS inventory.

It turns out that they both have excellent night vision, and can see long-wave ultraviolet. Specifically, they can see UVA -- centered around 350 nanometers or so.

A normal human retina can sense near ultraviolet, but the lens normally blocks it off. In the kids' case, though, they actually have UVA cones, and the lens passes UV just fine. They have four color vision instead of normal three color vision.

"So, what does UV look like?"

"I dunno, Dad. What does red look like?"

She had me there. How do you describe a color?

Their hearing has similarly been improved. Those cute seal point kitty ears of theirs can swivel just like Sneaky and Sassy's ears, and they are pretty good at focusing in on faint noises. I expect that they'll get better with time.

After some practice, they became fairly adept at controlling their tails. Usually, though, their tails seem to have a mind of their own. I can tell when they are agitated or sad by the way that their tails twitch and move.

The big feat of engineering, though, is their retractable claws. They really don't resemble the standard design of a cat's paw at all. A normal cat's claw is controlled by the equivalent of the joints at the ends of our fingers. The claws are curved into a semicircle, and flexing that joint extends or retracts them.

In the case of the kids, though, there are extra muscles that move the satin black claws into and out of a pocket under their fingernails. The fingernails are reinforced with carbon nanotubes and a little thicker than normal fingernails, and act as reinforcement for the claws. With the claws retracted, their hands look normal -- except for a faint dark stripe down the middle of the nails. Cindy hides hers under fingernail polish, and Larry just ignores his.

Most MORFS-acquired cat claws continue to grow for life. If they are exercised by scratching something like a board or a tree, they will remain sharp and short enough to be fully retracted.

Cindy grinned wickedly, extended her slightly curved claws, and walked toward the couch.

"Claw my furniture, young lady, and I'll throw your fuzzy tail outside with Sneaky and Sassy! How would you like to learn how to use the litter box?"

She smirked and took a swipe at the couch. Luckily for her, she retracted her claws first.

Anyhow, our kids still look like our kids, but they definitely look different. Cindy's hair has changed from auburn to a fire red that goes very well her little seal point kitty ears. Her eyes are a bright emerald green, and have the same lens-shaped pupil that Larry's eyes have.

Larry ended up with sapphire blue eyes and long dark blond hair that we quickly cut shorter, though not so short that the barber would have a difficult time with it. It's pretty common for MORFS to leave both males and females with long hair, and we wanted to get Larry feeling a bit more like himself. Cindy, was thrilled with her long hair.

Both of the kids have bigger eyes, giving them good night vision (and a look of wide-eyed innocence). The iris is bigger, but it all but disappears when the lights get dim. As the lights come up, the pupils narrow from the sides, creating a lens shape that is about twice as tall as it is wide. As their pupils shrink further, that lens shape remains constant, shrinking from all sides at once. Fortunately for the kids, their pupils can close down enough for them to function in very bright sunlight. Some cat hybrids have to wear sunglasses during the day.

The kids have almond eyes, giving them an exotic and slightly Mediterranean look that kind of reminds me of that princess on Disney's rendition of Aladdin. Actually, it's more of a 'Siamese cat' look. In fact, their faces have a very subtle feline appearance, though they are definitely human faces.

Both kids are somewhat lighter and a lot slimmer. They look lithe, graceful, and, well, feline. Cindy is a real heart-breaker, with a graceful body and very feminine curves. Larry is by no means feminine, but he definitely moves with the grace of a stalking cat.

They both appear to have lost muscle mass, but they have actually gained strength. Genetic tests show that they have managed to acquire DNA group 1255C genes for dense, high output muscles. If they choose to work out, they will become very strong.

The obligatory post-MORFS visit at the doctor's office found the same thing we did. "I wish all my patients were so together," commented the doctor. "You probably don't need this, but here you go," he said as he passed us the usual post-MORFS information packets.

We took the kids to the mall to get a few clothes that will fit their slighter frames and accommodate their tails. Most of the clothes they have at home will work fine, so we are in no hurry to set them out with a new wardrobe. Larry was happy about this, but Cindy was disappointed. I expect that Sara will be taking Cindy to the mall later.

Sara took Cindy to the beauty salon for a work-over, so I took Larry into the barber shop for a trim. It didn't take long, so we waited for Sara and Cindy over in the tool section at Sears. I think we ended up spending more money than the girls did. We'll have to make it up by doing some projects around the house.

When the girls caught up with us (How did they guess where to find us?), I was astonished. The beautician had done some magic with Cindy's long red hair that caused it to frame her face while enhancing the look of her little kitty ears and bringing out the exotic look of her new features. Her nails were painted so that the the base and tips match the color of the base and tips of her ears. Her toenails were painted the same way. She slid out her claws, showing off the fact that the tips of her fingernails match them.

We grabbed a quick lunch in the food court, stopped by the school to pick up homework assignments, then went home. I had an afternoon class to teach. Sara could just as easily have taught the class, but I decided to take the class and leave her with the kids. They can normally take care of themselves, but we figured that they might need some moral support today.

Sara got the kids started with their homework while I showered and prepared for class. I didn't really have to take a shower, but I always felt better if I washed myself thoroughly. It's almost as if I could wash off the less than wonderful body image that I have saddled myself with.

After my shower, I scrutinized myself in the mirror. It looks like I'll have to put some follicle deadener on my face soon.

Have you ever wondered why some hair, like the stuff in your eyebrows, never gets long? It's because your hair follicles turn themselves on and off in a set cycle. The length of the cycle determines the length of the hair. Not long ago, some colleagues of ours found out how to turn them off all at once. Women use that stuff on their legs, and I like to use it on my face. Some people use it to remove MORFS-induced fur from inconvenient places -- like the palms of their hands. Some men use follicle stimulator on their scalps.

Researchers in Sun City are trying to develop a method permanently setting the cycle length. If this can be done selectively, it'll be possible to set a person's hair length, removing the need for cutting. Stylists will instead decide on the length of the hair needed for each part of the scalp, paint the stuff on, and do the curling and moussing.

Whoops... professor mode again. Like I was saying, I was scrutinizing my face. My dark blond hair was shot through with gray, especially at my sideburns. I had never considered myself to be handsome, but old age had been kind to me. The gray hair and slightly wrinkled face combined well with a suit and tie to give me a look that can best be described as 'distinguished'. I may never be one of those heartbreakingly handsome dudes, but I definitely looked the part of the honored professor. Of course, if I wear old clothes, I'll end up looking like a scruffy old man.

I was just a bit tired as I waved goodbye to everyone and headed out the door. I guess getting up at 3:00 AM can do that to my old bones.

Class went well. Sara and I don't do undergrad classes anymore because the school considers our limited time to be better spent teaching the advanced classes. After all, we have been in the field for as long as the field has existed.

After the lesson was over, one of the students raised her hand and asked me about the kids. Apparently, her little brother had mentioned that Larry and Cindy had dropped by school briefly today.

I was detailing their changes and the results of the DNA scans when a wave of dizziness hit me. I staggered a bit, but recovered quickly. I should have sat down right then and there, but my male mind made me hide my weakness and keep going. I was about to open the floor for more questions when I felt dizzy again. I heard the bell ring as I collapsed.

(End of part one)

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