Stepping Stones (Founding of the Federation Short Stories Book 1) Page 3

  While she tried to think of a solution, she decided to do a little tweaking (Creating an artificial testes was out. She had recently done it for another patient, but it was tricky and expensive). She snipped out some of the high-risk cancer genes and other problem gene sequences, replacing them with better ones. She also made minor alterations to the DNA to harden it against radiation.

  She threw in some of the military tweaks she had created for the program for good measure. They would need such treatments on Mars she reasoned. She had to stop herself when she got to the point where she was filtering out male baldness. Enough was enough.

  ~~~>

  “I'm at a crossroad here,” she told Wanda in an email a week later. “We can go one of two ways, I can do some test runs and try inserting the stem cell into a donor egg to see if it will take. Or I can go a different route,” she typed. “Unfortunately, I don't have your eggs here, however, and procuring a sample is … tricky,” she typed. There was one source she hadn't wanted to consider, but she could do it if it was necessary. But she'd need outside help to get the eggs out of her own body.

  She wouldn't send them one of her own unborn children, but she could make certain the process worked. Her other option was to create an artificial testes. She'd done something like that for a soldier who had been wounded recently. She had learned yesterday that it had even become viable after a while, though she still doubted that miraculous bit of news.

  ~~~>

  Using her own eggs for the Irons’ procedure made her think of wanting a child once more. Things had returned to normal, such as it was, but she wanted more. However, some things made her stop, to wonder if it was worth trying for a child at their current stage in life. Rob was too busy and both were under a lot of stress all the time. Finances weren't a problem, and even with their busy schedules, they could hire a nanny. No, having the kid wasn't the problem, getting pregnant was, mom, she thought, sending the thought out to her mother. Doing it the old fashioned way was rough.

  But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she didn't just want a child. She wanted the best, just like the Murtoughs and others were getting. In what was coming … she wanted the best for herself and her family she thought firmly. If the child did want to go into law enforcement, she shuddered at the thought, if he or she did she wanted to give them the best chance at survival too. Go with that thought she reminded herself.

  The next time she trapped her husband, dragged him to the bedroom, and had passionate sex with him, she kept a sample of his fluids in a condom. He had been so endearing, wanting to make sure she got hers several times before he finally released his pent-up seed. It had been frustrating waiting, but in a way the frustration had added to the appeal and her own pleasure. She'd laid on him, feeling his member return to normal and cooed slightly in disappointment. Both of them had been panting heavily. She got up and cleaned herself up as usual. Since he was distracted with his own nirvana and momentary exhaustion, she slipped the sample into a small thermos she had under the bed. The thermos had a tiny battery operated cooler to keep the sample cool and therefore viable.

  ~~~>

  She was excited the next day when he left for work. Almost too excited to drive, her eyes kept going to the thermos for the whole commute. Getting it through security had been a bit of a pain, but the long check-in line had worked in her favor for once. By the time the guards had gotten to her, they were so impatient they did a cursorily check then waved her through. They were more concerned about weapons or electronic devices anyway she thought as she made her way to her lab.

  It took time, time to screen the sperm then modify it to the baseline she wanted before she used the best to fertilize a series of embryos. From that she chose the best of the lot for the next stage.

  Over the course of the following month, she applied what she had learned, as well as the recipes for various attributes she wanted as she used the facilities to improve the embryo further. She didn't know which way the child would go, but she wanted to give him or her the best she could offer. That included the best she had thought of but never tested on others. Hopefully, the improvements to the child's brain would direct him or her to a career in science. Just in case they decided to be perverse and follow in the Lagroose family tradition of police service however, she threw in all of the super soldier modifications as well.

  When she was finished, she had created her own child, a child of her mind and body. Perfect in every way she could manage she thought, looking at the samples. Children plural actually, she thought, her finger tips tracing the storage containers.

  She chose and implanted the most viable embryo into herself when her body cycle was at its peak. The rest she put in cold storage under an alpha numeric. She didn't know if the embryo was male or female. She didn't want to select for that, chance was a more fitting method of finding out she thought. There were some traditions she had to cling to despite her scientific mind. Some womanly things were worth keeping, she thought with a secretive smile.

  “Using a turkey baster to get knocked up. Boy the mighty have fallen. I really need to nail that boy down. Use his own handcuffs or something to get some quality time,” she said softly.

  “You say something?” Doctor Thorpe asked from near the open door.

  “No,” Ursilla said hastily, covering herself and her notes. She blushed darkly, aware she'd embarrassed herself in front of her boss. She got up, adjusted her clothing, then left. If security only knew what she was taking with her.

  ~~~>

  She nailed her husband down figuratively and literally that evening. She also didn't use a condom; the lack would cover her pregnancy later. It was all carefully calculated and scripted out. It took time. She didn't want to rush things, and she definitely wanted to enjoy every second of it. It had been far too long, and they had a three-day weekend to make up for the lack of each other's company. She intended to smother him with love for what she was about to do. What she had already done technically.

  When they concluded the latest round and their respiration had returned to normal, he asked about the oversight. She shrugged such concerns off. She was still straddling him, though she had dismounted. For the moment.

  “I guess I was in the heat of the moment,” she said, smiling coyly at him as the fingers of his left hand traced her spine. His eyes looked lovingly up at her, drinking in her naked breasts and body. She loved that look, that adoration. She bent down to kiss him, smiling as she did so. His right wrist still sported the handcuffs.

  “Well, we have been a bit lax about our marital duties I suppose,” he murmured, still stroking her.

  She twisted and purred, feeling the sensuous feelings return. “Careful, boy,” she teased, stroking his sweaty chest. You aren't in any position to say no if I decide to have seconds. Or is it thirds?” she asked with a grin.

  He snorted. “I thought you'd be too tired,” he mocked.

  “For riding you?” She caught his hand, brought it up to kiss it, then pushed it down over his head. He grinned as she bent down, trapping his other wrist as she kissed him. “Never,” she murmured, biting his lower lip as the cuffs snicked shut once more. She could feel his natural reaction to her husky voice and actions. Things were moving along quite nicely she thought with approval as her hands stroked him.

  “Hey, no fair! I've got to pee!” he laughingly protested. Her hand went over his mouth to shut him up.

  “Tough. You can pee later,” she growled, nipping at him. She heard scratching and whining at the door. “And I'm not doing this with an audience so go chew a bone you mutt!” she said over her shoulder, voice rising in pitch for the dog's benefit. The whines stopped, but Rob's chuckles rolled under her. She pinched a nipple, getting his attention once more. “Now, where were we?” she asked, eyes glittering with more than mischief as she stared down at her prey.

  ~~~>

  With Doctor Thorpe on vacation for two weeks—a fishing trip with family in Montana—she had plenty of op
portunity to get the project started. She followed his notes like a recipe cookbook, nervous about how it would work out without the expert guidance of the doctor who had pioneered the procedure.

  On Friday she had the testes cooking in the bioreactor so she fell into the routine and visited the clinics. She winced when she heard about young Murtough. His mother showed Ursilla her broken arm.

  “Is a two-year-old supposed to be able to do that?”

  “He's definitely strong for his age. Remind me not to arm wrestle him,” the geneticist quipped. The mother snorted. “Have you been checked for osteoporosis? Or other bone related problems? How is your calcium levels?” she asked, looking at the pediatrician. He shrugged.

  Mrs. Murtough grimaced. “You are sounding a lot like my husband.” She shook her head. “I'm not sure if he hit me wrong or what. I dread a tantrum now.”

  “Was that …”

  Mrs. Murtough held a hand up. “No no, he's a good kid. No, he's just strong and well, I guess I hit it just wrong. We were horse playing and well …”

  “Ah. Twisted it?”

  “Or something,” the young woman agreed with a nod as the pediatrician finished the tests. “We all good here?”

  “Yes, he's in excellent health. You are up-to-date on your shots young man, so you lucked out there,” the doctor said, tapping at his keyboard to update the young man's file. “Sleeping and eating normally?”

  “He eats like a horse,” Mrs. Murtough reported, shaking her head. “He sleeps okay. When he is about to go through a growth spurt, he sleeps a lot and is cranky if I have to wake him.”

  “Ah,” the doctor replied, nodding. Ursilla nodded as well. It was all fascinating. She could see the downside of having an enhanced child. The altered musculature didn't come free; they required additional fuel to supply them.

  “His father is hoping he'll get into the pewee leagues. Football is traditional; though with his arm, I wouldn't rule out baseball,” Mrs. Murtough stated, collecting her son. Ursilla smiled slightly at the sight of the mother hanging her son on her hip like a purse. The boy giggled then squirmed to be let down. She let him down and then rolled her eyes when the doctor offered the boy a lollipop.

  “You're going to spoil your …,” she stopped and heaved a sigh as the kid's eyes lit up and a pudgy hand popped a lime lollipop into his mouth. “I see where I count here,” she said in mock aggrievance.

  “Kids love sugar. It fuels their growth and energy levels. Too much can make them crash, and of course we have to be aware of the threat of juvenile diabetes. But he has an active metabolism. You said he's going to the bathroom regularly?”

  “Yes. No need for the laxative anymore. He just goes less than I thought. He's already potty trained,” the mother said proudly.

  “Good good,” the doctor replied, ushering them out. Ursilla smiled and made some notes on her tablet.

  ~~~>

  Ursilla completed her copy of Mario's testes mostly under the radar. Technically it wasn't; since she had to use the reactor to create the sack and testes, it was right there for all to see. No one asked though; they had their own projects to work on.

  It took a few weeks for the testes to settle in, but when they did she found that they worked and functioned perfectly. Blood flow was good, oxygen good, all the lab results had come back clean.

  When some of the brass came by for a tour, they were uncomfortable when they peered into the bio reactor and saw the testes hanging there. “What is … oh, my god,” a female major said, then giggled with her hand over her mouth. One of the captain's looked inside and gasped.

  The general had his cover tucked under his arm. He looked inside and grunted. “Now that's taking one for one's country,” he said shaking his head. He backed away to let an admiral in to see.

  There was another gasp. “Is it pulsing?”

  “We have it set up with a circulatory system,” Ursilla replied, pointing to the box nearby. They could see a tube going in and out of the testes.

  The Admiral shook his head in wonder. “What you folks can do these days.”

  “Well, now you don't have to worry if the Mrs. cuts it off. In this case it really can grow back,” Ursilla quipped. She saw the major snicker. They gaggle took off quickly after giving Ursilla a horrified look. She shook her head.

  “That'll get us into trouble. Is that for another soldier? God, I feel for them taking that sort of damage,” Doctor Thorpe said, looking up from his work station.

  “Something like that,” Ursilla replied, giving Doctor Thorpe a small smile. She used a needle to extract a sperm sample. Seeing her do that made the doctor blanch and look away. She couldn't help but smile maliciously broader. She put the sample on a slide and checked the results. It was as she had hoped, the stem cells had turned into little swimmers. Excellent.

  “All good?”

  “All good,” she said, doing a count of the swimmers while also noting how active they were. “Want to see?” she asked, looking up from the scope to him.

  He held his hands up and backed away, right into a counter and stool. “No, no, I'm good.”

  “You guys have got to get over being uncomfortable about some of these things eventually you know,” she said.

  “Yeah. Something like that is as fun to talk about as a prostate exam,” he muttered, walking away. She snorted and let him go.

  ~~~>

  Once she had the functional sperm, Ursilla packed it up in a special thermos and made arrangements with Nate to ship it. She was surprised that it was so easy to get out of the facility, though the corporal was in security. She then disposed of the testes as medical waste and put a sample of sperm and stem cells away for future need.

  It wasn't until an air force major thanked her for her efforts in passing that she realized that others had known about it. Apparently the Irons family had some connections and supporters despite calls from some circles to cut off all funding for the Mars program. She wondered how high it went. She shook her head. She wouldn't know, but at least she was covered in that regard.

  When she got home, she pulled into the driveway to find Robert's SUV in the driveway. She blinked. He'd just washed it; the garage door was up. She went inside to find him getting a beer.

  “Oh, hi,” he said absently, with an odd tone of voice. A familiar click click of nails told her Max was near.

  “What's wrong?” Ursilla asked slowly as she set her purse on the table.

  “Wrong?” he asked in a strangled voice as he popped the top.

  “Wrong,” she said, eying him. She put her hands on her hips. “Out with it. You've been working all out and now you are home. What gives?”

  He took a sip of the beer then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Can't fool you, can I?” he asked roughly.

  “Rob …” She came over, looking up at him, knowing the news wasn't good. She could tell Max was bothered too. She wrapped her arms around her husband. “Tell,” she ordered.

  He cleared his throat and then set the beer down, one hand supporting them by holding the counter behind him, the other wrapped around her. She could tell from the shaking in his arm that it was bad.

  “Fanny was shot,” he said into her hair.

  “Fanny …” It took her a moment to realize he was talking about his sister Belle's partner. “Oh,” she said softly.

  “They had to put her down. The bullets ripped through her.” His voice roughened more with tears. She held him and nuzzled him. Her own tears pricked at her eyes. She didn't know Fanny well, but she'd seen her in some Skype conversations with Belle and Owen. It was a canine partner's worse nightmare. Second only to their partner getting a genetic disease.

  “How is she taking it?”

  “Not good. Owen and Roufess are there though to support her. And the kids.”

  “I see. Ed?”

  “Ed called in too. The whole family. I wish I was there, but …”

  She nodded, hands around him and rubbing his back. His family was sca
ttered all over the United States. They came together every few years for a reunion but it was hard.

  “Call them.”

  “I did. I got the call from Owen. I … had to call off. I couldn't stay on the job. I was just out of it. Couldn't focus,” he said roughly.

  “And now you feel guilty about that. Rob …”

  “Hush,” he said, rubbing her neck and shoulders, then hugging her once more. She stroked him gently.

  ~~~>

  Ecstatic over getting pregnant, the wife of the soldier that had received cloned genitals excitedly reported the wonderful news on social media. She even said it was by the traditional method. That kicked off interest in some circles that spread. Eventually the media got wind of it and started to do some digging.

  Ursilla's work with the injured veterans becomes too public so the brass was forced to scale back the program. The budget for the program went away. It was reasoned that since the super soldiers would grow and mature over the next sixteen years, it would take time for them to see any results. Chance was also a factor in the thinking of the brass. After all, why invest in someone who might decide to become a civilian? Or worse, use their abilities for criminal or treasonous ends?

  The staff had all signed nondisclosure agreements but instead of cutting them loose some were reassigned to medical assignments with the VA while others like Ursilla were given quiet bonuses and offered cushy jobs away from the brewing storm.

  Ursilla was hired away to Nova Biotics, almost without her consent. The public affairs department spun the story with the fallback cover, on helping wounded veterans get back onto their feet by any means possible. She watched as the suave young man in uniform read the public statement, showed off some of their achievements, and explained that they had a lot more ground to cover.

  Most of the media went along with it. But a few latched onto some of the areas the brass were uncomfortable with. Fortunately, the Lieutenant Colonel was ready for them.