Remember those old theater cartoons, back in the day when vaudeville was still around for cinema to connect with? I felt like a character from one of those; that gag where the crook of a cane emerged from the side of the screen to whisk a character away, no matter how much they screamed and protested. The cubic wonderworld dissolved into streaks of color and light that lasted for an instant, and then I found myself back in my body in the real world. For a split second, I thought I was going insane, only to remember that that was what it felt like to have a physical body. A partially dead, partially lagging, partially wyrm-changed body. My consciousness winced as it reacquainted itself with my bodily senses, chief among them screaming ringing and throbbing vibrations coming from my console in my coat-pocket, as well as the—

—I screamed.

Holy Angel it was horrible. Greg and I were still physically linked. Dark fungal growth swaddled our forearms, melding them together like a nightmare of a Twchangan finger-trap. Much to my relief, cracks quickly began breaking the growth open, as its surface dried, thinned, and sloughed off. I kept tugging my arm with all my might—though Greg didn’t budge in the slightest—until I came loose with an unexpected snap. I saw countless little villi on my hand and forearm wriggling through the air as our arms broke contact. They danced in the dim light, slowly retreating into my skin. The momentum from my final tug flung me backward, but Greg caught me with his psychokinesis before I fell. The shimmering blue-gold threads cradled me like an armchair, and flashed with hints of green as Greg gently levitated me back to the nearby chair and set me down with a plop.

Right on my tail.

“Ow!” It smarted something fierce.

Andalon skittered over to me, flushed with concern.

“Mr. Genneth?”

I waved my hand dismissively, saying, “It’s fine, it’s fine,” as I grabbed my tail, pulled it out from under me and threaded it through the gap beneath the back of the chair.

I grumbled at Greg. “That hurt, you know?”

“Well, you should learn to do that sort of thing on your own,” he said.

I pulled my still-vibrating console out of my coat-pocket.

“I’ll put it on my to-do list,” I said.

At a glance, I noticed a sizable list of unanswered text messages cluttered the upper half of the screen; below, caller ID displayed Jess Kaylin to indicate the incoming.

Gulping, I pressed the “accept call” button.

Even beneath her translucent F-99 face mask and PPE visor, Nurse Kaylin’s scowl was razor-sharp as ever.

“Fucking dammit Howle,” she barked, “I’ve been trying to reach you for minutes!”

Nurse Kaylin was like a force of nature. You did not ask the hurricane a question, nor the earthquake, and neither did you ask them of her. You simply responded and made due.

“Our two mystery darkpox patients are up and about. They’re either weirdo cosplayers or they’re time-travelers like Dr. Derric says.” For a moment, all the color went out of Nurse Kaylin’s face, but then there was yelling in the background, and it shook her back into form. “Goddammit,” she muttered, looking over her shoulder before glaring at me. “Dr. Howle, I don’t care what time it is. Get down here now! We’ve been messaging you the directions half a dozen times over! If the world wasn’t fucking melting as we speak, I’d have your ass handed to me on golden platter; this ain’t the Quiet Ward!” The last thing I saw was her finger crashing into the screen like a falling stalactite.

Our would-be time-travelers.

Stressed, I started hyperventilating, which—I noticed—was gradually filling the air in front of me with a subtle tinge of pale green. If I focused, I could make out the eddies of my breath.

Without another word—calming my breathing as much as I could—I rose from my seat and walked to the reception desk, and headed toward the exit when a giant wyrm-arm grabbed hold of one of the support pillars behind the desk.

Larry.

“Oh, Dr. Howle,” he said, “Dr. Horosha just mentioned you. He wanted to talk to you.”

“When?”

“Just now,” he replied.

“Mr. Genneth?” I half-felt Andalon tugging at my arm.

“Not now,” I muttered, shaking my head in her direction.

I looked back at the janitor. “Where is he?”

“Oh, he just left,” Larry said. “Thataway.” Larry pointed down the hallway with the smaller of his two hands, at the double-doors from which we’d entered.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“He—”

—I darted down the hall without a second thought, yelling as I ran. “Suisei!”

The sound echoed down the hall, nice and loud.

Dr. Horosha leaned his head around the corner, and then stepped into view a moment later. His normally perfect posture was still weighted down with a bit of a slouch. He leaned against the wall, propping himself up with his arm.

“What are you doing, Dr. Howle?”

“What are you doing?” I asked. It wasn’t the best comeback.

I wasn’t good at witty repartée.

I noticed I wasn’t panting for breath in the slightest, even though I should have been; I wasn’t fat by any measure, but I wasn’t in the best physical shape, and generally hadn’t ever been.

“I received a notification about our patients,” I explained, “and am supposed to be attending to it.”

“There are patients everywhere,” he replied. “Why have you gotten yourself so worked up?”

“It’s our mystery patients!” I said. “The ones dressed like historical anachronists re-enacting the Lightsbreath Rebellion?”

Suisei’s expression paled. He was genuinely surprised.

Holy Triun! Why hadn’t I thought of that before? Maybe Suisei was connected to our mystery patients? I mean they were all Munine! Or was that racial profiling?

I was totally on edge.

Andalon tugged at me again, stronger. “Mr. Genneth…”

I jerked my head down and glared at her. “Please, Andalon, I’m kind of freaking out right now. Just wait. I’ll answer your question, whatever it is, just—”

—Fiddlesticks…

That good old sinking feeling curdled in my stomach as I realized what I’d just done.

At first, Dr. Horosha raised his eyebrows. “Andalon?” And then he saw that I was freaking out about what I’d just said, which made it clear as day that I’d obviously said something important that I hadn’t intended to say.

He watched me like a hawk eyeing prey, complete with a moderate smirk, though with his reserved temperament, he might as well have been grinning from ear to ear.

Suisei bowed his head at me in the most mocking display of mock reverence I’d ever seen. “If you do not mind me asking,” he said, “who is Andalon, and… why are your so distressed to have said the name in my presence?”

Though I’d just stepped out of a room filled with transformees, here was the real serpent.

“It’s a long story.”

“Hmm…” he tilted his head to the side. “Then, perhaps I should ask the others…?”

Since I was still in panic mode, I immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion. “No, leave them alone! They wouldn’t know anything about—”

I nearly slapped my hand onto my mouth.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Genneth?”

Dr. Horosha grinned. He’d played me like a fiddle, and we both knew it.

He tricked me, Andalon. He manipulated me, and made me do something I wouldn’t have ordinarily done.

“This isn’t funny, you know,” I said, grumbling at him.

Dr. Horosha smiled softly. “Learn to find your moments’ joys, Dr. Howle. They are the only joys we can ever truly rely on.”

I sighed. “Was this your plan all along? To manipulate me?”

Suisei shook his head. “Not at all. I prefer to seize opportunities, rather than let them pass me by.”

Just like my wife. I rolled my eyes.

“Larry said you had something to tell me.”

He nodded. “I do.”

I crossed my arms. “And why should I listen?”

Instead of answering me, though, he just went ahead and spoke.

“I heard much of your conversation with Dr. Rathpalla, Genneth. It confirmed what I already suspected to be the case.”

I lowered my head. “What, are you going to berate me, too.”

“No, I am not,” he said. “Simplicity is in the eye of the beholder, perhaps even more so than beauty.” He looked me over; up, down, and all around. “What I will say is that your changes have reached a turning point. Were you anyone else, I would recommend you stay with us. This transformee enclave can help you like no others can.”

I scoffed. “You say it like it’s so easy. I’m kind of addicted to helping people, you know. I think about other people’s troubles, and I get antsy. I start to fray. I can’t just sit there and do nothing.”

Dr. Horosha nodded. “I know. That is why, for your own well-being,” he wiggled his finger at me, “you need to do something about your look. Your claws. Neck. Tail. For your own benefit, I will not let you leave this place until you are properly dressed for the part you wish to play.”

I waved my finger at him, ready to voice a riposte, but then stopped mid-gesture.

He had a point.

Fudge.

For a second, I almost despaired, but then I remembered Greg’s suggestion from before.

There was a dead guy back there; he was wearing one when I ate him. But since I really don’t like wasting supplies, I made sure to carefully peel the hazmat suit off him first.

“You know what?” I said. “I think there might be a work-around. Just, please, give me a couple minutes. Then we can go together.”

“Wh—”

But I cut him off. “—You’re not the only one here who can read a guy. I can tell you are intrigued by our would-be time travelers. And, based on what you’ve told me, if there are qualifications for dealing with time travel, I’m willing to bet you probably have them.”

In response, he said nothing.

“Also,” I added, “there might be more cannibal transformees afoot.”

“I can handle them on my own,” he replied.

“From what I saw after you rescued me,” I said, “your body appears to disagree with you.”

He chuckled. “Says the doctor trying to hide a tail and claws,” he replied.

I pointed at his waist. “Says the doctor leaning against the wall. I’m not leaning, and my legs are probably rotting as we speak!”

“So… what if I am?” Frustrated, Dr. Horosha exhaled. I suspected it was more toward his situation than to me, personally—but, you could never be sure.”

“It’s clear by now that we’re both keeping secrets from one another,” I said.

“Am I a secret, Mr. Genneth?” Andalon asked, excitedly.

Grinning, I looked up and off to the distance as I nodded my head. “Yes, Andalon, you are.”

“Why are you looking away from me, Mr. Genneth?”

It’s called a “red herring”.

Suisei flashed the tiniest hint of a glower at me.

I looked him in the eyes. “We both want to know each other’s secrets. We can’t earn each other’s trust if we’re dead.”

“Mr. Pfefferman and many of the other transformees have informed me otherwise.”

I glared at him. “You know what I mean. And if you want to learn about Andalon, I’m going to have to insist.”

Also, truth be told, if Greg’s idea with using a hazmat suit didn’t pan out, well… I guess I was holding out on the hope that maybe, just maybe, Suisei might help me once more.

I wanted to trust that he would at least do that.

Dr. Horosha cocked his head to the side.

“Be quick, then, Dr. Howle.”

I sighed, muttering “thank you” under my breath as I turned around to do something I really, really wasn’t looking forward to doing.

Time for a self-examination.