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I said that I might post a story once in a blue moon, or something to that effect. Well, there just happened to be a blue moon last month and I was inspired to write a short story that I think you might find entertaining. So without further ado, I present the following story.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Comments have been blocked for this story but kudos and private messages are always welcome. Even highly critical private messages are welcome. I don't mind criticism when it's private.
Love Burns
by Terry Volkirch
I begged my husband not to be a human guinea pig but he wouldn't listen. He insisted on blazing a trail for the transgender community, and like a good wife, I eventually supported him. I loved him too much to try stopping him no matter the danger.
After signing a mountain of forms and taking dozens of psychological tests, the doctors declared Max to be ready for the next phase. They explained that the experimental drug or whatever it was would work best in microgravity, so up he flew into low Earth orbit to the new Orion space station, leaving me behind to wait and worry.
"Don't worry, Mary," he told me the day he left, just before he climbed into the back of a black SUV. "I'll be back before you know it." Those words haunted me for a long time.
The Orion spun fast enough to simulate Earth's gravity along the rim of its great wheel, but at its large hub in the center, people floated in microgravity. The hub made it easier for space shuttles to dock so it was a busy place. Supplies and waste materials passed each other with frequent regularity there, and it was also where Max spent a lot of his time.
Over the next several days, the doctors performed more tests on Max in the hub before they'd administer the drug. They tried their best to minimize risk at least. I couldn't fault them for that.
My husband buzzed over the Earth at more than fifteen thousand miles per hour, and being summer, the sky remained clear most of the time. I checked the Internet to see when the Orion would be visible and went out to watch the glowing dot pass overhead. I always waved and blew my husband a kiss, wondering what he'd look like when he returned.
The experiment began ten days after Max arrived at the space station, and whatever was injected into his bloodstream worked slowly for the first thirty minutes or so. After that, he experienced some dramatic effects with the ultimate unpleasant side effect. Yes, he died. He must have, though no one could ever prove it.
The doctors grew concerned when Max's fever spiked, and they panicked when his body began to deform. They dressed my poor husband in a pressure suit and shoved him into an airlock. After a scant ten minutes, his condition worsened and they ejected him out into space, fearing that he'd somehow affect the station. I never figured out why they thought that. They mentioned something called gray goo and shuddered. I couldn't bring myself to look it up.
In their haste, the doctors didn't depressurize the airlock before they opened it to the vacuum of space. The escaping air caused my husband's body to shoot out towards Earth. He quickly lost altitude and his timing was good for re-entry into Earth's atmosphere. I was able to watch him briefly flare up as he shot west over the Pacific Ocean.
My husband, the human fireball meteor put on a good show. Most people cheered when they saw it, but I wasn't the only one crying.
*** Five Years Later ***
A year after my late husband lit up the night sky over the Western United States, scientists had worked most of the kinks out of the experimental drug, thanks in part to my help. I'm not transgender but I'd wanted to understand what my husband had gone through. I'd wanted to see what drove him to go through with the dangerous experiment that ended his life. So I volunteered to be a test subject and I became a man. I hated every minute of it.
The insurance money was good. I didn't have to worry about working. That helped because I didn't feel like interacting with people. I mostly stayed at home in the suburbs, avoiding family and friends and stewing in my unwanted body. It seemed reasonable to stay a man for several years before I changed back. I thought I owed Max that much. I wanted to experience gender dysphoria long enough to truly understand the condition and my husband's motivation to be a guinea pig became all too clear.
My mother badgered me to change back. She wanted me to remarry and have children. She wanted to be a grandmother. I tried to tell her that it wasn't about her. I tried to make her understand but it was impossible. Still, after four years, I began to listen to her pleas. Four years was long enough for me to thoroughly despise my body, wasn't it?
It wasn't long after I scheduled an appointment to change back to my original female self when I got an unexpected visitor. A woman with wavy, shoulder-length blonde hair appeared unannounced at my front door. She wore a tee shirt, shorts and sandals, very sensible clothing for the heat of summer. Something about her looked very familiar but I was sure that I'd never seen her before. "Yes?" I asked her. "Can I help you?"
She cocked her head as she stared back at me. "Mary?"
We both stood appraising each other in silence for nearly a minute before I was able to speak again. "I haven't gone by that name for several years," I told the woman. "I go by Max now. I renamed myself after my dead husband."
She blushed. "I think there might be a slight problem then. I go by Max too. It's short for Maxine."
"So?"
"So, we can't both be called Max. Silly Mary, quite contrary."
I turned white as a sheet. Only my husband ever used that phrase with me. "Impossible," I whispered.
The woman shrugged. "After what I've been though, I'd say nothing's impossible."
I quickly invited her in and led her to the living room. I seated her on my sofa and I pulled up a dining room chair to face her. I rarely had guests so I didn't have a lot of furniture.
We sat facing each other for several awkward minutes until I noticed a large burn scar on her right thigh. I thought it rude to point it out but I was desperate to break the ice between us. I had to know.
"That looks like it was painful," I said, pointing to her scar.
She looked down. "Oh, that? Actually, I didn't feel a thing." She paused for a few seconds before adding in a quiet voice. "I didn't feel anything for a long time."
"So what happened?" I prompted.
"I woke up wrapped in a blanket on a drift net fishing boat. I was told that I was tangled in a drift net and pulled in with a large catch of fish. I'm glad I missed that part, especially since I was completely nude. That would've been embarrassing. Er, more embarrassing. I still blush when I think about it."
"How did you get tangled in a drift net?!"
"I know. Crazy, right? I had no idea at the time. I'd lost my memory. It took years of hypnotherapy and a little luck to get my memory back. My brilliant hypnotherapist eventually guessed who I really was and helped me regain my memories more quickly after that."
"And just who are you, really?"
"You know who I am, Mary."
"I need to hear you say it."
"I'm your husband. Or I was. I expect our marriage to be annulled by now." She sighed.
I couldn't find my voice for the longest time. We both sat in silence, looking at each other's feet until I could speak again.
"We can still be married," I said in a small voice. "But how? How are you still alive?!"
Maxine shrugged. "My doctors aren't sure exactly how I survived. The only thing they could agree on was that the nanobots they injected me with had to have performed some crazy techno-magic. Those little buggers are amazing. They'd have to be to keep me alive."
I shook my head. "I still say it's impossible."
"Hard to believe, yes, but not impossible. It's me, Mary. I'm Max."
"I can't believe it. I won't! No one can survive falling from orbit! I saw you burn up in the atmosphere!"
"Okay. Okay. Consider this. Most meteors are tiny grains of dust that quickly burn up in the atmosphere. But larger chunks, like myself, can be large enough to burn on the outside but still have something left to reach the ground. The nanobots must have had enough to work with once I splashed down in the ocean."
"It wouldn't matter, Max. Your brain would be fried. How could you recover from that?!"
"Ah. That's where the nanobots really shine. I have billions of 'em in me. Billions! And they're all programmed to create and maintain the body you see before you. A single nanobot by itself couldn't handle reconstructing my brain but if each one specialized in one area, they could handle it. The doctors figured they used organic material from the fish in the drift net and sea water to rebuild me, and here I am. Go ahead. Ask me anything. I remember everything. I think I have a better memory now, thanks to those super little nanobots."
"You're almost making sense, but how did the nanobots not burn up?"
"Ah. That's where it gets really crazy. There were several theories bandied about over snifters of brandy. Most of the doctors thought the nanobots swam to the center of my body and built up some sort of organic wall to help protect themselves until they had more favorable conditions to rebuild me. That doesn't sound all that interesting to me though. My favorite theory seems unlikely but I prefer it over being a human charcoal briquette. One mildly drunk doctor suggested that the nanobots thought outside the box, literally. She imagined them coming outside of my body and fashioning my pressure suit into a makeshift parachute to slow me down. I wouldn't have needed the pressure suit since I wouldn't have been breathing."
I laughed. "That's absurd."
She smiled back at me, that same silly, crooked smile that I knew and loved so much, even if it was on a different face. "Can you think of anything better?" she asked.
"No. Not really." I paused briefly in thought before adding, "I want to believe. Some of what you've told me seems plausible enough on its own, but when you put it all together, it sounds like science fiction. I mean, what are the odds?"
She grinned her crooked grin again. "Astronomical, I'd say. But what does it matter? I'm here now. You can't deny your eyes and ears."
"I can't deny that I'm talking to a woman, but I can still deny you're my husband." I paused. That sounded stupid and strange. It was a stupid and strange conversation. I wanted to believe her so badly but something kept stopping me. Maybe I'd been a man too long. Maybe I'd just been alone for too long. I couldn't let myself hope any more. I'd healed and finally let go of my grief, and now this woman shows up and tears open my emotional scar. It was too much for me. "I need something else, something more," I told her, pleading with moist eyes.
Max sighed and tears began to dribble down her face. "Oh, Mary. All I have is this burn scar and my memories to prove who I am. I remember my last words to you, telling you not to worry, that I'd be back before you know it. I'm so sorry it took so long. I got back as soon as I possibly could."
"Wow," was all I could say to that. She still couldn't prove her identity, but she did correctly remember her last words to me before leaving for the space station, and she spoke with such conviction and emotion that it broke through my doubt. I found myself suddenly believing her, believing everything she told me, however improbable. It took another long moment before I thought to mention something else. "You could have the scar removed," I told her. "Doctors are pretty good at replacing damaged skin."
She relaxed then, and I could tell she knew that I finally believed her. Her tears stopped and a faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she spoke. "I know, but like I said, it helps remind me of who I am. I don't know why the nanobots didn't replace it with normal skin but I'm glad they didn't. I've needed the reminder. You have no idea how hard it's been."
I sighed and a single tear rolled down my cheek. "It's been hard for me too. I became a man to try to understand what my husband, what you went through every day, living in the wrong body."
"That's why you did it? Oh, Mary. I'm so sorry." Maxine got up and came over to hug me from the side.
I gently got up and we moved to sit together on the sofa. We just sat there, enjoying each other's presence until Maxine asked me a question. "How long have you been a man?"
"It's been just over four years. Why?"
"Can you make it a few more years?"
"What?! I'd rather not."
"Well, I'd really like to experience pregnancy at least twice, and as long as it's possible, I'd prefer the children to be genetically both of ours."
"Are you serious?!"
"Yes! Please consider it. Please? For me?" She batted her eyes, like that would matter.
Actually, it did matter. It shouldn't have but it did. I thought I was only attracted to men, but I loved my husband and it somehow translated to a strong love for Maxine. I felt my resolve collapsing in a rush of hormones.
"I'll consider it on one condition," I told her.
"What?! Anything! Name it!"
"You'll have to change your name. Like you pointed out, we can't both be called Max."
She sputtered a moment before blurting out, "But you'll be going back to Mary eventually! Why can't I keep my name?!"
I couldn't help myself. I started chuckling to give away my teasing.
"You rat!" she said, lightly slapping my arm.
And that was the beginning of a brand new marriage. I got my precious Max back and my mother would get her grandchildren. I'd be a man for several more years before I changed back to my true self, allowing me to gain a much greater understanding of what my Max had gone through. It helped bring us closer together for the rest of our happy lives.
*** The End ***
© 2015 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.