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"Bovine Parents"

CHAPTER 5

Whilst Eric was being bent and moulded into his new form by the power of science, his wife's fate was taking longer to play out. Sandra sat in the middle of her room, hands trembling slightly as the cool air of the chamber was circulated around by the lab's temperature control system, a faint humming its only sound. The bitter taste of the serum lingered about her lips.

The wait served only to amplify the dread -- a feeling she knew her beloved was experiencing just as much -- and she became consumed with despair over her predicament. Her drive to keep her life afloat had stayed the worse of her self-doubt, but that drive had gradually petered out as the day of transformation crept closer. Now she was left with aught but the stark -- and unforgiving -- awareness of her situation. There was no well-dressed Lacey Cain to reassure her, no considerate Eric to console her, no smiling Tommy to warm her heart. Just a bleak, featureless cell, and her anticipation.

Unable to hear through the dividing wall whether her husband was okay or not, Sandra's head buzzed. The silence was yet another part of the chamber that got to her. If the changes didn't begin soon she would certainly lose it. Her palms were sweaty, and her knees ached. Sniffling through what appeared to be the onset of a cold Sandra lay back and began breathing steadily.It's all going to be okay, she repeated mentally,it's all going to be okay...

* * *

The observation centre of the Bovinex laboratory comprised six remote monitoring stations that could be linked to a variety of test facilities, both on-site and elsewhere. At the moment only two were manned, as Lacey and Frank kept a close eye on their test subjects, the few assistants Frank had on staff having clocked out for the day leaving them alone in the lab.

Lacey had volunteered to watch the wife, thinking a woman's touch would help her walk Sandra through what was happening. On her computer monitor she saw the poor woman lying down, nothing having noticeably changed. She knew Frank had concocted different serums for the pair due to the fact that inducing the genetic modifications required handling the unique edge cases that person's DNA presented. A problem she hoped they didn't encounter was if part of the formula didn't work and they were left with either one cow-person and their traumatised partner, two masses of unidentifiable yet still living flesh, or a couple of corpses on their hands. None of these were an attractive proposition.

She peeked over to where Frank was seated across the room. He was fixated on the computer screen before him, its white glow casting an ugly paleness over his face. His eyes betrayed an astonishment as he inched closer and closer to his monitor. The audio from their respective test chambers was fed into a set of headphones each wore. She couldn't hear anything from Frank's end, but it was clear that the transformation of Eric Reimond was in full swing.

A blacked-out observation window was located on Frank's side, where he could interact more closely with Eric's chamber to complement the video feed he was receiving. Lacey had no such luxury down her end, a bizarrely out-of-place cat poster on a concrete wall her only decoration. Perhaps it was for the best she only saw things through a monitor...

Returning to her own scientific vigil Lacey sat, and stared, as nothing of note occurred. Had Sandra's dosage been wrong, was there something they hadn't accounted for when brewing her serum? If Eric survived his gene therapy, would she be able to live with a hybridised human/cow monster? Lacey was beginning to worry, both for her charge and for the fate of her programme.

That's it, we fucked up again, she berated herself harshly,_my career is dead now if it wasn't before. Sure, one out of two ain't bad, but we need to be able to reproduce our success. How in God's name do we manage that with a single fluke transformation?_Director Evans -- her boss, who had reluctantly poured so much time and money into her work -- would be proven correct. This_was_just an impossible fantasy.

As she observed Sandra coughing as she lay down, Lacey noticed a promising development. The woman's arms and legs were starting to twitch slightly...unnaturally.Scratch that last thought, this is for real!

* * *

The aching hadn't gone away for Sandra as she got colder and colder. The room temperature wasn't actually dropping, instead a feverish chill had taken hold of her. She noticed her limbs were losing feeling. Where once they were still, now an unnerving twitching of muscles took over. This involuntary reaction was yet another thing to add to her list of worries. That, and she was also starting to feel very, very queasy.

A day earlier they'd gone out to dinner after collecting money from all the tins, sock drawers and piggy-banks that made up their household savings. Lacey pitched in a few bills too, for them to bid farewell to their former lives. A 'last meal' if you will. Eric didn't each much while Sandra herself had gorged like there was no tomorrow. Dread has different effects on one's appetite, she'd surmised. Clearly, Sandra shouldn't have eaten so much.

Sitting up, holding her stomach; sickness took over. Leaning further forward, she was dry-heaving for a few minutes before full-on vomiting.

"Ugh..."

She was well beyond staying calm and maintaining her dignity. Apologies for making a mess of her accommodations could be given later. Once the nausea cleared she was back to being generally miserable. The fever hadn't wavered. That was when she noticed the dull, throbbing pain emerge all across her body.

Oh my. I...this is it...I know it...

* * *

Sandra -- suddenly and involuntarily -- bent over backwards with a harsh crunch as the serum rearranged her skeleton. This caused Lacey to flinch sharply as what now looked like a scene from a horror movie played out over the camera feed. Lacey could see her test subject open her mouth to scream, but a faint whine was all that could be managed. She couldn't watch this. She hadn't the stomach. Shutting her eyes, she refused to view any more as the fruits of her labour were at long last showcased in all their shape-shifting glory.

* * *

Just like Eric, Sandra's feet and hands reworked themselves into their respective bovine forms. Jerking her legs about as they continued to change, her hooves smashed into the floor in a fit of panic. Hard-tipped fingers on enlarged hands grasped at shadows as she struggled.

Gasping desperately for air as her husband had done so, she discovered her skin was sprouting hair...no...fur. She really was becoming an animal! No chance of there being only minimal physical changes now. The worst-case scenario Lacey briefed her for was coming true.

Her body lengthened and broadened. Her feminine curves becoming more shapely, backed with strong muscles, giving her the strength of an Amazon. Though she did not know it, her height had reached eight feet, eclipsing her paltry previous five-foot-two.

Her hips widened, broadening into a form more suited to delivering hybrid calves than human children. This was accompanied by an increase in the size of her rear, as the genetic serum boosted fat production. Nature demanded a cow like her be able to store enough to keep warm and handle many pregnancies after all. Another growth spurt wracked her body as a tail emerged.

* * *

Lacey worked up the courage to take another peek at the goings-on in Sandra's chamber.Holy shit, she finally realised, we've done it. We've actually gone and done it!

She watched as the once-human woman shifted on the ground. Sandra was covered in a light tan fur, her clothes strewn about the room in tatters. It thinned around her belly slightly, some pinkness of skin visible underneath. No udders, but her breasts had gotten much bigger -- not hugely out of proportion given her size, but nonetheless impressive.If Eric could see her now I'm sure he'd be pleased at his wife's new assets, whispered the sly thought that entered Lacey's mind.

Moving to other parts of the body, she observed a short pair of horns grow from Sandra's head in real time, as her face became what one could describe only as a cow's snout or muzzle. Having all of the bones in your face and skull breaking apart and fusing together in new and interesting ways certainly sounded painful, and the uncomfortable cries making it to Lacey's ears suggested that very thing.

She checked the screens to her side quickly.Good, we're still recording everything. Frank had set up an impressive array of monitoring devices in both chambers. Collecting the data necessary to prove the viability of the transformation process was now Lacey's top priority. Sandra (and she assumed Eric as well) was supplying it to her in spades. Director Evans could not possibly reject the implications of her programme anymore.

Looking over to Frank, she found him still glued to whatever was happening on his screen.If it's like anything I'm seeing, it's well worth the watch.

* * *

Over the course of several hours Sandra Reimond transformed from a kindly housewife -- of fair complexion, beige-brown hair, average weight and looks -- to an enormous buxom cowgirl. One could be forgiven for finding her fairly uninteresting before; now however, she'd forever be a curiosity.

Lifting herself up on wobbly legs, ignoring the residual pain of the transformation, she attempted walking only to be met with failure and the floor rising to meet her face.

"Mooh..." she sighed, exasperated. Her voice incapable of producing normal speech, whether temporarily or permanently she didn't know. Another addition to the list of woes in her life right now.

Upsetting things just kept piling up and up on her -- threatening to suffocate her (figuratively of course, but no less distressing). Curling into a foetal position, holding her head in her hands, Sandra could do little to stop the tears from flowing.

* * *

The procedure took its time. Regularly risking herself falling asleep -- but still able to shake herself back into awareness before her eyes closed entirely, Lacey discovered Sandra crying alone. Pressing a hand to the monitor she felt helpless to comfort her. Until she remembered the intercom system at her disposal.Wake up idiot, you should have been talking to her sooner!

Placing a finger on the speaker button, she readied herself.Need to say nice, calming things. She could hear Frank speaking to Eric, but the sounds were muffled by her headphones. He was busy with their other patient, she had to go it alone.Need to say nice, calming things, she repeated.

"Hi Sandra."

* * *

"Hi Sandra."

The hybrid's ear's perked up as she snapped out of her weeping.

"Moo?" she asked tentatively, as if saying: "who's there?"

"It's me, Lacey. Ms. Cain. Remember?"

Sandra nodded. The voice on the speaker she could definitely remember. They must have cameras and microphones pointed at her. Suddenly she realised her lack of clothing and moved her arms to cover her chest, head bowed in shame.

"It's okay, it's okay. You don't have to be so self-conscious. I'm the only one watching you. And we're both girls here aren't we?"

Sandra smiled and gave an affirming "moo."

"Okay then. How do you feel? Nod if you're still hurting."

She nodded.

"Nod if you're scared."

She nodded again.

"Nod if you're still breathing."

Confused by that statement, Sandra hesitated before returning a third nod.

"See. Wasn't so bad was it? You made it out alive after all."

She soon understood Lacey's tack. She did survive, that much Sandra could be grateful for. It cheered her up a bit as Ms. Cain provided additional exposition.

"As you can no doubt tell, you're now half-human, half-other-animal. It think they refer to that as being_anthropomorphic_ or some such. We're still working on what exactly to call what you are. Frank and I that is. Probably something like 'hybrids' or 'anthros' for short. Or whatever. That's not important -- marketing can handle that down the line if we go public."

"Moo."

"Yep, sure," Lacey assumed Sandra meant something about privacy, "we won't intrude on you or reveal anything about your new...ahem...condition. That's why we've got Carl doing up your place into a brand new farm while you're here. Buying all the surrounding land is giving us space to keep your new identities secret, as well as helping us give you two a home better suited to your new bodies."

She continued: "Frank's talking to your husband right now. He can see Eric a fair bit better than I can you, there's a big perspex one-way window on his side, see. I'm stuck with looking at you with the CCTV cameras. I bet you want to know when you'll be allowed out. Well...that might take a day or two."

Sandra's expression changed, saddening at the news she would continue to be trapped in Bovinex's dungeon for the time being.

"We need to ascertain what the modifications have done to all the microbes and other organisms in your body. At least, that's how Frank explained it to me. Apparently we could end up unleashing freaky super-diseases on the world if we're not careful! The medical scanning can be done automatically using sensors in the chamber, but it'll take time."

Lacey promised Sandra that she'd make her stay as comfortable as possible while they waited for all of the test results to come in. Frank was working on providing furniture that suited Eric and Sandra's new sizes -- the few items already in their rooms useless to the hybrids -- in addition to food, water, and toiletries for their extended stay.

The process had exhausted her. She interrupted Lacey with a deep yawn and lay down once more to rest. Her observer agreed to leave her be until tomorrow. Sandra drifted off to sleep, electronic eyes keeping watch over her.

* * *

The school bus carted Tommy and his classmates back to their homes after another day of learning. The teenager had so far kept his mouth shut about his parent's predicament. He had to. Bovinex wouldn't appreciate anyone spilling the beans -- no matter how politely Carl and Lacey had treated him up to this point, he'd be in huge trouble.

Sitting beside him now was his classmate Nick, who was busy trying to understand his own handwriting.

"You need to see a teacher about those scribbles."

"Nah man, it's all good. I'll get it eventually."

"Your funeral if there's a pop quiz anytime soon."

"Yeah well, you just keep your eyes on your own studying."

"No need to be so rude...Have you thought about after-hours study classes. I was thinking about starting them. Could help you too."

"Why are you thinkin' 'bout that?"

"Carl's been doing a lot of work around the house. Extensions, digging, building barns and sheds and all that. It's noisy."

"Carl...you said he was your...uncle or somethin'?"

"More like a family friend."

"He's not a weirdo is he?"

"I don't think so."

"You know, 'cause there's a lotta weirdos about these days."

"It's cool that you're looking out for me, but he's normal. Bit grumpy though."

"Okay. So why's he minding you?"

"My parents..."

"Are they in some kind of trouble?"

"No...I mean kinda...I can't explain it."

"Nah, it's okay. You don't have to. My mom and dad ain't goin' through the best times either. They gotta go to counselling twice a week."

"Yeah. Not quite like that..." A brief pause ensued, interrupted only by the slow trundling of the bus as it drove over potholes on its way to Tommy's stop.

"You can always crash at my place."

"That's alright."

"No really dude. It's no problem. Mom hates dad's guts but she'd never show it with company. It'd give me a break from all their fightin'."

"Heh, thanks Nick. Appreciate it."

"Sure thing. Now, did you get what Mrs. Woods was talking 'bout in history class?"

"Uhh...I might've made a note or two," Tommy said as he rummaged around in his pack.

"Sweet."