Evolution / 23

Nearly five and a half months passed in the blink of an eye.   The summer was as exciting as Susan could have hoped for; the feeling of walking, at Dara’s side, down the beach wearing the world’s sexiest swimsuit was all that she had hoped for.   They played with men a few times, but could never seem to get Karen interested in more than a short visit, now that she considered Dara and Susan to be a “couple”.   Now, Dara and Susan were, for the moment, alone at Karen’s side, waiting for the big event.   Karen’s contractions had subsided momentarily; the others who had been in the room left for a moment.

“So, all in all, things have been going well,” Dara was reporting.     “Susan here’s been a big hit at the seminars.   Our book has been doing very well–even though we only get three percent, it’s been enough to buy our new house.   The rest of the profits have gone to fund operations here.   And Susan’s even been considering being on some talk shows.”

“Oh no, not that,” Karen answered, remembering Lisa’s disastrous episode.

“Actually I think things will be quite different now.   I’m not going so they can grill me on the ethics of it, but simply because I can tell them what the ‘other side’ is really like, now that the world knows my history.”

Another contraction started.   Karen’s breasts had swelled a bit beyond their normal size, Susan noted.   She was undoubtedly lactating already.   This time the milk’s effect would be different.

“She’s coming,” groaned Karen.   “It’s time...”

“Already?” said Dara.   It wasn’t quite so obvious whether it was Karen’s new reproductive system, or perhaps the effects of her upright position in the birthing chair, that was making it so easy and fast for her.

Susan looked at Karen, and coached her.   “Okay.   Smooth, like we learned.   Keep your breathing up.”

“Oooh,” said Karen.

Susan startled; while not watching, Dara had left to retrieve the others.   She moved around between Karen’s legs.   Already, she could see Karen’s vagina beginning to bulge; her daughter’s head was well-positioned in the birth canal, and was ready to emerge.   Karen felt the baby traveling, ever so gently, towards the outside; the emotional, mental connection she had so cherished was fading, as baby and mother assumed the same purpose: separation.

Karen’s “daughter” felt everything as well; the warm, soft muscles around her now exposed their hidden strength and power; and guided her very firmly and gently through Karen’s birth canal.   It seemed, to her, in her barely-conscious state, like a very long trip; she could feel herself moving, and the passage in front of her expand, but it seemed to be a long way to the outside.   She and Karen had “discussed” this event quite a bit in the last couple of weeks; both were excited by it; and Karen’s daughter, who knew very well that she now had the same reproductive power that Karen did, was anxious to be in Karen’s place someday.

Again, a short break.   Still no Dara or others.   “You still haven’t told me the name.”

“Phoenix,” said Karen.

“Not ‘Danielle?’” Susan mused.

“No.   It’s what she wanted; detachment from her old...”   Karen was cut off by the next contraction.   Her birth canal opened, and the baby’s head was now visible.   Karen slowly started to push the baby out of herself.   It was wonderful.   The baby’s head was almost completely visible.   A short breather here seemed all too short.

The next breath, all she got in was the words: “Very symbolic.”

“Of course,” whispered Susan, who now held still with her hands   between Karen’s legs.   The view, from where Susan stood, amazed her;   Karen’s reproductive opening, normally so small and “invisible” between her legs, was huge.   Her legs were spread very far apart, like no man could do; and Karen’s enlarged opening seemed to take up the entire area, larger than any other single feature of Karen’s body; symbolic of her current purpose in life.   What was normally small enough for... well, a man’s penis... was, for the second time, large enough for a small human being to pass through.   Comfortably, in fact.   Karen had no need for pain medication.

Karen started to push again.   “The first one,” Susan whispered, as Karen began to deliver the baby.   The miracle of the event, the power that Karen’s body had, overwhelmed Susan for the second time.

She heard the steps in the hallway, and finally people at the door.   But it was too late.   Susan, covered in Karen’s blood and other secretions, was holding the baby.   “Congratulations, it’s a boy!” she said.

“What??” said Karen and Jeannette Carlson, together.   “Let me see,” demanded Karen.

“Just kidding!   Gosh!” announced Susan, smiling, as she transferred the newborn infant into Karen’s arms.

“You and Dara... really...” Karen complained.   “Welcome back,” she said to her daughter.   The baby, at the moment, was indistinguishable from a normal baby girl.

It was a minute or two before Phoenix started to breathe on her own.   With respiration well established, Jeannette Carlson applied the clamps to the umbelical cord, and offered the honor of the clipper to Susan.

In just a few more minutes, contractions started again, and Karen easily delivered the placenta.   Susan was amazed at how quickly Karen’s body seemed to return to normal; though she would be swollen and a bit sore for at least a week, her abdominal muscles were already tightening.   A little exercise, and she’d be back to her normal self.

Jeannette carefully bathed the baby, and Karen’s body, and then helped ease Karen down out of the birthing chair and into bed.   The baby was already nursing when Jeannette asked the others, including Susan and Dara, to leave her alone for a while.   Karen was entirely immersed in her daughter, and didn’t turn as the others tiptoed out.

“You’re a mess,” Dara told Susan.   “Karen really ‘got you’ good.”

Susan looked.   “Oooh.   I better go clean up.”

With that done as best as possible, Dara turned to Susan.   “Okay, now, this is it.   Right?”

Susan swallowed hard.   “I didn’t think it’d be here so soon.   But, you’re right.   No chickening out.”

“We said... right after Karen’s daughter was re-born.   I’m ready if you are.”

Dara and Susan both took a deep breath and headed for the complex’ library.

They both sat at the same terminal.   “This is the best way for us to get started,” Dara said, as though she was trying to assure herself of that fact.   “And, indeed, if your... or George’s... friends are in here, we’ll find them.”

Being inside the complex had one nice privilege here; the ability to peruse the entire list of anxiously-awaiting candidates–name, address, phone number, desires and wishes, and a personal statement from each on why he (or she) was interested in finding a partner for the reversing process.   Each had been prequalified by a group of women in the field, who advised each of the risks and legal requirements, including the fact that their partner might not be able to, or decide not to, grant them a new body.   There was no list of pending volunteers to host the process; they were scarce compared to the list that Dara and Susan now viewed, and all could pick a person from this list right away.   Outside the complex, access to the list was severely restricted for privacy reasons–you couldn’t look someone up by name, and couldn’t view all the information that the women now saw.   Thousands of desperate people pleaded their cases to those who would listen; people with handicaps or defects that wanted a new, more functional body; scores of people who considered themselves women trapped in men’s bodies, and many others that wanted something that medical science could not offer.

“I hope they all get it someday,” Dara said.   “Some look so sad.”

“Once news of Karen’s success with Phoenix spreads, there’ll be more   volunteers, I bet.   Remember Donna?   She should be due pretty soon   herself.”

“Probably more people on the list, though, as well.”

“Perhaps.”

Dara scanned one of the entries.   “Ah!   Good for you, Cathryn...”

“Who’s Cathryn?”

“A girl I studied with in elementary school and high school.   She was paralyzed since birth from the waist down.   Her dream was to be able to walk on the beach someday and feel the sand between her toes.”

Susan peered at the display.   “She found a host, I see.”

“Yes, she’s already gone.   One of my best friends from back then, too.   I’ll have to look her up and see how things are going.   I’d like to be with her when she finally gets to that beach.   Oh well.”

Dara flipped through the display a bit more, and stopped it again.   “Here he is.   I thought he’d be on the   list.”   She tapped a button to hardcopy the entry.

“Won’t he be surprised to hear from you,” Susan said, smiling.

“Don’t I know it.   I’m too excited.   Get yours and you can go first.”

Susan tried the names of George’s old friends.   None were on the list; none ready for the transformation.   It made some sense, of course.   They were, like George had been, in the prime of their lives, and were in no hurry to be converted–especially with the soon-to-be-increasing female:male ratio that they expected.   But one name she typed in was there.   The story hit home; it was a man who described how a two-day encounter with a special woman made him realize something that he wanted, and was now ready for.   The woman had left him with no phone number, no way to reach her.   Although he could have used various contacts to, perhaps, track her down, he felt that she must have not wanted to see him again, and it was better to leave her alone.

Susan printed this entry and closed the file.

Dara sat next to the phone.   “You go first, Susan.   I’m too nervous.   I don’t know what I’ll say; how to start.   It’ll be great; both of us carrying other people inside of us; there to support each other.   I still think we can convince Karen to join us; she’s been in this windowless place long enough.   We can watch each other’s daughters, help each other out...”

Susan, who didn’t get wrapped up in Dara’s conversation, went to the phone and picked it up.   Reading a number off of the printout, she dialed.   She took a deep breath and held the phone to her ear.

A long pause ensued.   Possible opening phrases flashed through Dara’s head:   “Congratulations!   You’ve been selected...”

Finally, a man answered the phone.   Susan took another deep breath.

“Ken, it’s Susan,” she said.