Covid Nineteen. Reaching the finish line but not yet over!

© Copyright to Beverly Taff

List of Characters

Terry Harrington. Fugitive boy marked for compulsory transitioning.
Samantha, (Sam) First transitioned kid Terry meets on the streets.
Theodora (Dora) leader of the transitioned kid gang.
Jessica. (Jessie) The only natal girl in Dora’s gang.
Charlie Member of the transitioned gang.
Jan Another member of the transitioned gang.
Ron Café owner who lost his daughter to egg-
snatchers,

Doctor McTavish. Female paediatrician
Doctor Cummins Professorial Consultant Paediatrician
Sarah. Senior Midwife at the maternity unit
Dawn Very young trainee nurse.
Eleanor Jessica’s mother.
Diana Terri’s mother.

Part 13.

Professor Cummins was reaching for the door handle as Terri asked.

“Who is to benefit from any vaccines that might ensue from my blood and how will priorities be determined.”

Professor Cummins stopped dead in his tracks.

“I. – what d’ you mean.

“Well, I’ve no idea how many vaccines might be produced from say thirty centilitres of blood but it’s not going to be all that many is it? This vaccine’s going to be in very short supply.”

George the lab technician interceded.
“Until we can determine just how your blood or other bodily fluids induces any immunity, it’s impossible to say how many vaccinations can be produced from one transfusion. Your question is unanswerable.”

“Yeah, I accept that the specifics can’t be determined yet, but I’d like some answers relating to any moral questions.”

“What sort of answers, or more importantly what sort of questions?” The professor responded.

“Oh, political questions, ethical questions, moral questions, racial questions, religious questions, eugenics and any other thorny questions that might crop up.”

“Are your trying to tell me you have issues with these questions.”

Terri was slowly gaining confidence as she slowly came to realise the significance of the issues surrounding her development or discovery. She decided to take the bull by the horns and shake the authorities out of their complacencies.

“You’re damned right I have issues, big ones!”

After a long, thoughtful pause, the professor responded.

“Such as?”

“Well firstly, the distribution of both my semen and my blood, or more correctly, any vaccines derived from it. - Who gets first dibs?” Who gets refused – and why? Who decides why?

“What do you want? Who would you give it to?”

“Bloody hell! I dunno. All I know, based on the shit I’ve had so far, is that the shit always comes back to me. I want out of that responsibility; it’s too bloody dangerous.”

“What about entrusting it to the World Health Organisation?” Aggie McTavish suggested.

“Don’t think so,” Terry replied ironically. “We saw what happened with Covid nineteen - and twenty one. Governments trying to hide things and the WHO kow-towing to bullies.”

“One bullying government trying to hide things,” Professor Cummins corrected, “and they look as though they’re learning their lesson.”

“Again, I don’t think so. They’re still trying to deny it by bullying anybody who confronts them. And that idiot from the UN is still sitting pretty as the boss of WHO. He hasn’t been sacked for misleading the world. Nobody can trust him or his so-called scientific advisors, his cronies.”

“That’s a bit harsh Terri.” Doctor McTavish tried to calm the transvestite Terri.
.
“Not from where I’m standing it’s not! - Not if you’re some poor woman stuck in some slum at the bottom of some social pile and only wishing for a child or even two while she sees some despot’s wife or mistress getting access to my sperm by dint of some political sleight of hand or just some brutal power play.

The same goes for the vaccine. Some fat, brutal dictator grabs the serum while more deserving cases on their death beads need it.

“How about some NGO like Medicine San’s Frontiers?” Professor Cummins suggested.

“That sound’s reasonable, but they would have to be protected, militarily that is. Once some small team of doctors is stuck out in some foreign country, you can bet some local warlord or crime boss is going to try and muscle in and snatch the vaccines or sperm for personal profit. There will have to be guards.”

“Hmm. Quis custodiet Ipsos custodes?” Doctor McTavish asked.

“What does that mean?” Terri asked.

“Who guards the guards?” The Professor nodded sagely.

“Justice does,” Terri replied, demonstrating a wisdom beyond her years.

“Meaning?” Doctor McTavish wondered.

“It only has to happen once, and that particular country gets no more sperm or vaccine. Then the governments all over, - and the UN, - will sit up straight.”

“Hmm. Yes; a bit heavy handed but certainly effective.”

“Effective is what we have to be. But we still haven’t decided who is the arbitrator to share the benefits.”

“I’m afraid Terri, if you want legitimacy to be demonstrated on an international scale, you’re going to have to accept some form of UN input or intervention.”

Terri fell silent for several moments as she struggled to accept the idea. She had studied the United Nations in history at school but she had also seen some of the monstrous hypocrisies in recent years, especially in the ‘human rights’ debates on You-tube; not to mention failures in war zones.

Based upon her own fugacy, those human rights had become dear to her heart, indeed central to her very being, - her transvestite, LGBT., being.

The silence became somewhat oppressive as Terri struggled to think of a solution, then she found herself studying Doctor McTavish as the paediatrician was offering to pour out some tea that she had ordered. It was this motherly action that caused the kernel of a solution to slowly grow in Terri’s head.

‘Yes,’ she concluded slowly, ‘why shouldn’t the people who stood to directly benefit, be the arbiters of priority and distribution? Why shouldn’t the people most directly affected, physically, financially and emotionally, have total control over their own destinies? The group that constituted more than half the world’s population!’

“I think I might have a suggestion for the foundation of a solution.” Terri proposed nervously for she was sure she’d be howled down.

“I think it should be an international council of women only who should decide.”

Professor Cummins squinted thoughtfully then slowly nodded.

“You’re not just a pretty face, are you girl?”

Doctor McTavish scolded the professor softly.

“Really Brendan! That’s exactly the sort of remark that antagonises women and reinforces Terri’s view.”

“No Aggie. I was indirectly approving her idea. Boys often use it amongst themselves, usually when girls aren’t present and if the suggestion is deemed collectively a good idea! Millennials call it ‘banter’! My generation have used such expressions for decades, but today it’s deemed education by humiliation.”

“So what d’ you think?” Terri asked.

“It’s a sound idea girl,” George the lab technician agreed.

“Ye-ees,” Professor Cummins replied thoughtfully, “It’ll ruffle a few feathers, but I could rub along with the idea.”

“I’m scared to add my approval for fear of being accuses of being sexist!” Doctor McTavish added.

“Stop looking for approval Aggie,” the professor observed. “You really think it’s a sound idea don’t you?”

“The principle is sound, but the devil’s in the detail.” The paediatrician elaborated.

“Now there you have it in the shell of a nut.” The professor pursed his lips before adding, “who for example chooses the women to sit on the council?”

“The women vote for themselves.” Terri replied though secretly telling herself that would rarely happen in many countries around the world unless the governments were coerced.”
“And how would that be enforced?” Doctor McTavish asked.

“We’ve got the whip hand.” Terri continued. “If any country cannot demonstrate that their elections to the UN Women’s Council are freely selected, - and elected. Sperm and vaccine is withheld.”

“More cause for confrontation.” George the technician observed. “Do you think some countries will stand for that?”

“Short of kidnapping me,” Terri shrugged, “there’s nothing they can do. In many countries there are no girls under three or four years old. There’s a blue funk going on and whatever they do, they dare not harm me .”

“Be careful Terri, you’re beginning to sound like a megalomaniac.” Aggie warned softly.

Terri stopped and pulled up short as she caught herself already abusing her power.

‘Dammit!’ She scolded herself silently, ‘it was too damned easy to cross a line, even if she had drawn it herself!’

After an embarrassed hesitation, she clenched her hands into fists and pumped frustratedly on an imaginary bench.

“Dammit, this is gonna’ to take a lorra’ sorting out. I don’ mind being a bastard about stuff, but I refuse to be a bitch.”

Professor Cummins let out a soft snort of amusement as he riposted.

“Careful Terri. For a moment I thought I saw a feminist slip showing.”

“It’s too bloody complicated Professor”

The professor sighed patiently as he explained.

“You’re going at this like a bull at a gate. You’re going to have to be systematic. List what you want then discuss it with others, - what’s legal, what’s fair, what’s achievable, what’s enforceable and what’s impossible.”

“All I want is what’s fair.”

“That’s what everybody want’s but what may be fair to you might not seem fair to others.”

“Right then the first thing is that I want it to be fair to girls.”

“Right, can we lay that down as the core basis?” Doctor McTavish proposed.

“Yes. Terri replied with a finality that brooked no argument.

“So what sort of things do you believe are fair to girls?”

Terri’s silent internalised scream of frustration almost escaped her as she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands to somehow suppress the anger.

Doctor McTavish saw the white knuckles and moved closer to the girl as she sensed the suppressed anger. She reached out to gently open Terri’s clenched fists while reassuring her.

“Take it easy girl. I know there’s a lot of unfairness and inequality around. So which elements are causing you to get angry?”

“The egg snatching of course. That’s just got to stop.”

“That’s not going to be easy,” Doctor McTavish was forced to reveal.”

“There’s got to be some sort of reproductive continuity during the years until your daughters come of age. Otherwise, there’s going to be a huge productivity gap and then your daughters will come under irresistible pressure to have babies the moment the reach their menarche.

Women will be pushed even further back economically if they are prematurely forced to become baby machines and who do you think will want to take them as child brides? Why old men of course! Those with power and money.”

“But surely there are enough eggs in storage by now. Governments have been stripping eggs from fertile girls for two or three years, they must have enough to tide them over.”

“Nobody knows how many eggs are in storage.” The professor protested.

“Then your government and those of other countries have been incompetent and deceitful. I can’t be accountable for any of that.”

“You say our government as though you don’t consider it to be yours.”

“All it’s been to me these past two years is my pursuer, my enemy, my predator. That’s not a government.”

“You’re not in danger now.” The professor tried to argue.

Terri let out an explosive snort of ironic laughter that did not disguise her anger.

“Because?” She demanded.

“Okay, you’ve made your point, but Doctor McTavish is right, if society is to remain stable, we should be producing babies continuously throughout the latent years while your children grow to maturity.”

“So the transitioners will continue to face their ordeals.”

“Well, hopefully, there will be no more enforced feminisations, - womb transplants,” Professor Cummins continued, “there should be a large enough reservoir of transitioner wombs to carry your children until they themselves come into childbearing age.”

“That’s got to be at least twenty years hence, - worldwide. I don’t want to see any daughters of mine being forced into marriage and childbirth before they are sixteen or preferably, eighteen or even twenty. All my daughters shall be allowed access to education.”

“You say daughters as though you will consider them your property.”

“If that endows them with proper human rights and proper protection from cultural or religious abuse then yes, they will be my daughters until they are at the age of consent.”

“That will be very difficult to enforce. Some religions and cultures will find it very difficult to accept those constraints.”

If they don’t then rule one applies. No compliance equals no sperm!”

Professor Cummins shrugged towards Doctor McTavish who secretly smiled a brief flash of approval towards the young girl who offered so much promise of female emancipation. For Dr McTavish too, had encountered the patriarchal ‘glass ceiling’ during her career of only thirty-five years.

Privately, Aggie McTavish resolved to have a long, private and very constructive chat with the kid.

For the immediate circumstances, it was obvious that discussions would have to be put off until Terri had completed her list of terms and conditions but the morning was approaching lunch time and everybody needed a break from such intense, fortuitous events.

As the portentous silence settled once again, Dr McTavish took the opportunity for a break.

“It’s coming up to lunch time, I think we all need a break.”

Strangely, Terri didn’t feel hungry but she accepted the opportunity. She nodded and made for the door to find Jessica and the twins. On finding them, she joined Jessica on the settee to chat at length about the many issues they knew they faced.

Doctor McTavish hesitated as Professor Cummins turned to the lab technician to discuss medical factors surrounding the sperm and individual sperm extraction.

They were making some progress with speeding up the process but several hurdles needed to be cleared before effective success could be claimed.

As the professor left with the technician to re-join his team, Doctor Aggie McTavish stepped the other way to follow Terri.

As she entered the room, Jessie twitched nervously then relaxed as she let the shawl slip from her naked breasts to reveal the twins busy at their favourite task.

“Wish you’d knock,” Jessica complained.

“So sorry darling, but we’re all girls here. We need to talk privately.”

“So what d’ you want?” Terri asked.

“It’s about what you were saying in there. If we’re to achieve what you want, we’d best get moving on the feminist front.”

“I’m not a feminist,” Terri Protested, “I’m a humanist. Equal rights for all. Real rights that is.”

“Whatever,” Dr McTavish agreed, “but whatever rights you want world-wide, you’ll have to move quickly, very quickly. I know for a fact that George is closer than he’s letting on about gamete separation and individual egg fertilisation. Yesterday, I was with him when he fertilised ten eggs and implanted them in ten transitioners. The only reason he didn’t do more was because we only had ten transitioners available.

There are already ten of your babies out there, he’s not wasting any time but that’s a good thing.”

“Have they implanted successfully?” Terri asked.

“We’ll know by next Monday when you deliver your next deposit. It’s a simple pin-prick to test the blood then the urine of the impregnated transitioners and they’ll know who’s taken and who hasn’t. From what I can guesstimate, there’s about a ninety percent chance of success and that’s far higher than the old techniques. George is a bright boy.”

“Well what are you worried about, isn’t that what everybody wants?”

“Yes, among the legitimate governments, but there are a few out there who are more than suspicious of everybody else.”

“Go-oo on.” Terri replied.

“Well one of the technical team working here is a Muslim. He’s quite religious but that’s a good thing, he attends mosque several times on a Friday and he also sit’s on the mosque management committee.”

“And?”

“Well, like in many religions, there’re a few hothead fanatics in his mosque and they know he works here.”
Terri nodded slowly as he felt he knew where this was going.

“So they think they’ve got some sort of ‘in’ if anything develops at this clinic.”

“Oh they know something is going on, the news about your daughters is already out there. They are trying to pressurise him to somehow supply them with sperm by stealing it from the clinic.”

“Have you told the police?”

“Not yet. Fortunately, I think Marek, - that’s his name’; is on our side and he can give us more information about the fanatics’ connections to other political entities outside of the UK.”

“How?”

“We need to lay a trail, and bait it with some spermatozoa from your semen.”

“Hold on! There’s no way I will deliberately allow any potential daughter of mine to end up in some country where women are abused.”

“We won’t use female spermatozoa. We’ll use male ones.”

Terri did a quick analysis and realised that to a muslim country, some male sperm
might count more valuable if the subsequent male babies could eventually father both sexes. Even then, it would be all of twelve to fourteen years before such boys were fertile. The time equation was the same for everybody. She pressed Dr McTavish a little further.

“So what do you expect this baited trail or trap to reveal?”

“Where the criminals are, who they are working for and how they get stuff to their country.”

“But you won’t know anything for, - as you say – twelve to fourteen years.

“No, but we’ll be able to prove that the spermatozoa have been stolen and that’s the first legal step to stiffening up the security. If we can prove that your sperm is at risk of theft, we have hard arguments and facts to prove the crime and proactively intervene at the earliest stage of developments. More importantly, we can defend any such actions we are forced to take in any court of law including the Hague.”

“Jeeze!” Terri cursed. “Why does everything have to be legal?”

“We have to be legal and seen to be legal.” Dr McTavish confirmed.

Terri sighed and squeezed Jessica to her.

“What d’ you think love?”

“How will they trace the route to whichever country is trying this on?”

“Marek is prepared to seemingly steal some spermatozoa and act as a courier under the guise that the sperm has to be frozen properly for protection and he’ll have the technical expertise to do that.”

“And when he gets to destination X?”

“He hands the sperm over, collects his fee and returns home as though nobody knows of the theft.”

“And what happens when they learn that he’s only delivered male spermatozoa.”

“He makes no secret of it. He simply says that he only has access to the male sperm in his section of the lab and he can only steal male sperm. It’s actually true. He works in B Block and rarely goes into C Block where the female spermatozoa are handled. He doesn’t have clearance to handle female sperm and that actually protects him from being forced to supply female spermatozoa.”

“So how much spermatozoa will we give him to steal? I mean there’s millions available on an individual basis.”

“We let him take about twenty individual male sperm. He works in the separation section where each sperm is deep-frozen and individually packaged. -Yes, we’ve already reached that degree of precision. The Manchester clinic confirms that the sperm we’ve sent to them has been successfully implanted individually into many assorted eggs. The logistical problem is currently, the surgical process to embed the fertilised eggs into the wombs. They are currently building brand new clinics in Manchester and Glasgow and training gynaecologists at a new school attached to Leeds university.”

“It’s not like you people to move that quickly.”

“Need’s must Terri. The economy is already suffering from various gender- related impacts.”

“Well. I’ve already said, I don’t want to be too involved with the whole baby growing side of things, so you’d best get on with it. To tell the truth, I want a break and I want protection.”

“Okay. Just get yourself and Jessica to compile your lists of wants and we’ll see you next week. Go and take a break. So far they only know that twin girls have been born at this clinic. Nobody knows about their transvestite father, - outside of this unit that is.”

“So for now, I’m just a female friend of Jessica’s but that still leaves Jessica’s liberty to walk freely through the streets to be addressed.”

“Behave as though your just two common-or-garden transitioners each taking your single child for a walk in the park. It’ll be easy to dress them as boys, there are no new-born baby girls in the whole of Bristol and no girl’s clothes available.”

“And protection?” Terri demanded.

“We’ll have armed plain-clothed troopers wandering discreetly around your locations and they’ll be with you in seconds if any approach seems untoward.”

“And if some sweet little old lady simply comes to adore the new-borns -?”

“Just treat her as a little old lady. Your so-called partners will be nearby anyway.”

“Hmm. It could work.” Jessica surmised. “Anything’s worth a try.”

“This afternoon then. We’ll give it a try.”

ooo000ooo

Authors note.

Dammit!

Once again, I didn’t get to finish this story with this chapter. This thing could run and run. I’ve just got to get the girls safe and the story closed.

I’m trying! Honestly, I’m trying, but I haven’t worked out a suitable ending yet!!

That’ll teach me to start a story without knowing the ending! (Stupid bitch!!)

ooo000ooo