The next few weeks saw a gradual, if limited, stabilization of the situation. The panic over the new sun was still very real, and there was no shortage of confusion caused by the unlucky transformees attempting to reconcile their normal lives with their various changes, but somehow things managed to avoid descending into utter chaos. For all of the first week and most of the second, the world was at a standstill; people hiding in their houses by day and only venturing out at night to restock their food supplies. But eventually, as the stock from the local grocery stores began to dwindle, people realized that this couldn't continue indefinitely, and began to adapt the old routines to the new schedule.
Oddly enough, it was the transformees that first began to help get society back on its feet; since they had nothing more to fear from the sun, they could do whatever needed to be done, whenever it needed to be done. Trucks driven by former humans began to resupply the grocery stores, and this spurred the un-transformed drivers back into action, as they tried to prove they were still capable of doing their job. The skilled drivers made it safely to their destinations before the sun rose, and those that didn't, for whatever other trouble it caused them, were suddenly free to work any time they could get it. The police departments began to make similar used of their transformees, setting them on duty during the daytime and scheduling their human staff at night. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was a lot better than sitting around stagnating. Things finally began to move again.
Of course, the fact that society was pulling itself back together didn't mean that everyone was suddenly totally okay with their changes, and the Madison household was as affected as any by the changes the new sun brought.
Jon was not a particularily happy camper. It was bad enough that she was a girl, having to factor in where her breasts were when picking things up, having to figure out how to use the bathroom with her new equipment, having to get used to her altered voice. It was bad enough that she had to deal with five feet of lower body that left a thin, sticky coat of mucus wherever she went, and that she had to figure out where to put in what position whenever she "sat" down somewhere, not to mention the antennae that she kept whipping into things when she bent over or sat up carelessly. But on top of all that, there was the constant, nagging reminder that, really, it was her fault. Surprisingly, Karyn had taken the news better than she'd expected, and was merely waiting for the six months to be up, but the waiting made Jon want to pull her hair out. That was another thing, the hair, but it was at least less of a nuisance than the rest of her changes.
Mikey was doing a bit better. She was confused and unsettled by the gender change, to be sure, but at her age it had less of a direct impact. More confusing for her was the change from human to robot, as she tried to figure out exactly what had changed in what way. She didn't really feel any different, at least not that she could tell (beyond the obvious physical differences, anyway;) she seemed to be more or less the same person she'd been before. But there were things that struck her as odd. Math had always been a difficult subject for her, and she'd secretly been a little glad that the world was coming to a standstill, since she wouldn't have to go back to school right away. But now, she could look at a problem and just know the answer, not even having to figure it out. Suddenly arithmetic came as naturally to her as breathing. Similarily, for all that she used to have trouble remembering things that didn't strike her as very interesting, or keeping things in order, now it was just something she could do almost without thinking about it.
It wasn't a bad thing on the face of it, but somehow she could tell that her mind was adapting to her new brain at the same time her new brain was adapting to her mind, and she wondered what the end result would be like. Would she be the same Mikey she had been, just more capable of sorting and handling information? Or was she changing into something as different from the old Mikey mentally as she was physically? It worried her.
Mr. and Mrs. Madison shared some of their new daughters' concerns, but they had plenty of their own, as well. Chief among these was Zoe. She had always been quiet and withdrawn, but they had noticed her looking peculiarly contemplative when Jon or Mikey were in the room. It was the same thoughtful expression she'd worn the first time she was introduced to goth culture. They'd never had a problem with that, since she had managed to immerse herself in it without taking on any of the truly negative behaviors they'd seen in some of the other goth kids in the area, but right now it was plain, to a parent's experienced eye, that Zoe was weighing the risks and benefits of exposing herself to the sunlight, probably in hopes of becoming something cool. Mrs. Madison had asked her about it, but she was reluctant to say anything very informative. They hadn't pressed the point, but the Madisons were worried that she'd make a rash decision to give up her humanity in the name of being different without fully considering the consequences.
Just down the block, Karyn was doing notably better than her best friend. She wasn't exactly crazy about being half-octopus, but it wasn't all that bad. She missed being able to move around freely, but having eight extra limbs wasn't a bad tradeoff. She'd had some trouble getting used to them at first, but she was finally getting the hang of them, learning to control each of them individually. She didn't actually have that many things she needed eight limbs for, but even using one or two at a time was awfully handy; she could, for instance, use both hands to type on her computer, one tentacle to work the mouse, and one or two more to handle drinks or snacks. It took some getting used to, but it was liberating (and she was kicking some serious ass in her occasional forays into online multiplayer.) And for all that getting around on land was a chore, she could move like the wind in water; she'd been getting in plenty of swim time when the neighbors gave her permission to use their pool whenever she felt like it. She still hoped to return to normal when the stone had finally recharged, but in the meantime...well, things could have turned out a whole lot worse for her.
She could, for instance, have lost her arms instead of her legs. This was Sarah's chief problem, and unlike Karyn, she hadn't gained a flexible-if-weaker alternative in their place. Having wings in place of her hands was a pain in the ass, pure and simple. She still hadn't tried to fly, but even if she could, it wouldn't be a worthwhile tradeoff. She did seem more flexible and was able to do more with her talons than she would have been with her feet, but it still didn't help that much; she could open doors easily enough, but complex tasks like dressing herself were simply beyond her abilities; she had to rely on her mother's help for that kind of thing.
Which was a problem, because while the rest of the world was beginning to pull itself back together, the elder McMillans seemed to be coming further unglued. They had holed up in the basement around the start of the second week, only coming upstairs when they had to, such as when Mrs. McMillan needed to cook a meal; this despite the fact that they'd successfully sealed off the upper levels from sunlight on the first day of the crisis. They were starting to treat Sarah oddly, too; they weren't openly unpleasant to her, but they acted strangely around her, as if she were half-familiar and half-stranger. It was deeply troubling for her; not only did she depend on their help as much as they depended on hers, she really did love her parents, and it hurt to see them succumbing to paranoia like this. She wondered if they really would go crazy, if she'd have to abandon them to their fate and try to seek refuge with Jon or Karyn. She hoped not.
