Chapter 8: Transplant

The day had finally arrived. They had spent enough time planetside for Sousa and the Jarilan doctors to be satisfied that the IVF treatment was a complete success, and the green light was given for them to head home. A message was sent up to the Magellan, which had been performing surveys of the planet during the wait, and another shuttle was arranged to take them back up into orbit. Jamie and Liz packed their things and prepared to say their goodbyes, but Holly beat them to the punch. She arrived at their door with Harry and Blackjack at her side, but this time, there was a whole entourage of Workers in tow.

“I came to bid you farewell,” she said as she stepped into their prefab, eyeing the bags that they had piled up beside the couch. “It has been a pleasure, and I will sorely miss your visits.”

“We’ll miss you, too,” Liz replied. “I can’t thank you enough for everything that the Jarilans have done for us. Without your help, none of this would have been possible,” she added as one of her furry hands moved to her stomach. “A year ago, the prospect of being a mother was a dream, but you helped make it a reality.”

“Tell Nightingale and the other doctors that we’re grateful for their help,” Jamie said.

“I will pass on the message,” she replied, so formal as she stood there with both pairs of hands clasped in front of her. “I brought you something,” she added, gesturing to the door. One of the workers made its way up the steps, a resin crate the size of a footlocker clutched in its powerful upper arms. It set the container on the carpet, then flipped the lid open, Holly reaching down to pluck something from within. It was a transparent container full of amber fluid, about the size of a large tube of toothpaste. “A parting gift,” she explained. “Our Repletes formulated this nutrient paste specifically for Borealan kittens. It contains everything they need to grow strong and healthy. Mother’s milk is best, of course, but this will be of great use to you when the time comes to wean them.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” Liz stammered as she peered down at the crate. It looked like a treasure chest full of gold. “How much of this did you make?”

“Enough to last you a good while,” she replied. Jamie leaned over a little to get a look past her, seeing that there were at least ten crates of the stuff. “I’d give you more, but the shuttle wouldn’t be able to carry it,” she added.

“If you ever make it to Earth, you’ll have to come visit us,” Jamie said.

“I’d like that very much,” she replied with a smile. “May we help you with your bags?” she added, glancing at the pile.

“Oh, sure,” Jamie replied. With a wave of her hand, more Workers filed into the room, collecting bags from the pile. Jamie felt a little bad for them, he and Liz hardly needed a team of porters, but the squat Bugs were so paradoxically strong for their size that they hardly seemed to mind.

The group made their way towards the landing pad on the outskirts of the settlement, finding the rickety old shuttle waiting for them, its engines idling. The Workers began to load the luggage and the resin crates into the cargo hold as the surly pilot looked on, muttering quietly to himself in disapproval.

Sousa came to see them off, along with a few of his staff members, Liz and Jamie thanking them profusely for their part in the project.

“I have to mirror the Ambassador’s sentiment,” Sousa said, watching as the last of the crates was loaded onto the shuttle. “I’m sorry to see you go. I would have liked to deliver the litter myself, but I understand that you have a narrow window to safely make it back to Earth. All I can do now is wish you the best of luck.”

They said their final farewells to the friends that they had made during their stay on Jarilo, knowing that they would likely never have an opportunity to see them again. It was an odd feeling, leaving behind such a pristine, alien world. What awaited them was the normalcy of Earth, with no friendly Jarilans, and no continent-spanning forests. Not for the first time, Jamie wondered if they had made the right decision in choosing to go back.

“Good luck,” Harry said, taking Jamie by the hand and giving it a vigorous shake. “If I know anything about Borealans, you’re gonna need it.”

Blackjack leaned down, a massive head almost as long as Jamie was tall descending from above. His fearsome, jutting teeth belied his gentle nature, the great creature loosing a low rumble that shook Jamie’s bones as he thrust his scaly snout into his hand. Jamie pet him as he would a dog, feeling the rough, overlapping scales beneath his fingers. The Krell’s hide was cool and leathery, the alien closing his yellow eyes contentedly as Jamie patted his nose.

“Blackjack says goodbye,” Harry added, smirking at the sight.

Jamie and Liz turned, making their way up the cargo bay ramp, pausing to wave to the small crowd that had assembled beside the landing pad as it began to close. Jamie took one last breath of fresh, Jarilan air, watching the last sliver of sunlight fade as the bulkhead sealed.

“Is that a tear in your eye, Liz?” he asked as he glanced up at her. She wiped it away with the back of her furry hand, composing herself.

“It’s just my hormones,” she replied, rather unconvincingly.

“Strap yourselves in,” the pilot called from the cockpit. “I’m on a timetable here, I can’t wait around all day.”

They sat down in the crash couches that lined the walls of the bay, fastening their harnesses tightly, their haul of crates secured to the deck by mesh netting. The floor beneath Jamie’s feet began to vibrate, his stomach lurching with the motion of the vessel lifting off, a rumbling sound reverberating as the landing gear retracted. The main engines roared, and with that, the green forests of Jarilo were left far behind them.

Captain Cassidy was waiting for them on the other side of the Magellan’s airlock as they left the long umbilical, a broad smile on her weathered face as she welcomed them aboard with a firm handshake. A few of the other crew were there, too, offering to help them with the bags that they were carrying.

“So, a little birdie down at the UAS outpost tells me that your procedure was a success,” she said as she appraised the pair. They didn’t even need to reply, their grins told her everything that she needed to know. “Congratulations,” she added, giving Jamie an enthusiastic pat on the arm. “You two are gonna have to give me all the details over a drink once we get underway. You got anything else that needs bringing off the shuttle?”

“I’m afraid we returned with far more cargo than we left with,” Liz replied.

“You two have had a long journey, go take a load off,” Cassidy insisted. “I’ll have my guys bring the rest of your gear aboard.” Liz began to protest, but the Captain wasn’t having any of it. “I’ll not have an expectant mother carting cargo around on my ship, even if she could bench press most of the men on my crew,” she added. “My ship, my rules.”

“Yes, Captain,” Liz replied with a smile.

“Your quarters are as you left them,” she added. “And, welcome back.”

The sounds and smells of sizzling bacon filled the galley as Liz prepared breakfast, tossing an egg in her pan, the half-dozen crew who were sitting around the dining table looking on hungrily. She had resumed her role as the ship’s cook, liberating its denizens from the monotony of packaged meals once more. Jamie was helping out, carrying a plate stacked high with bacon, eggs, and sausages over to them, the scientists and engineers digging in.

She watched them eat with a smile on her face, spatula in hand, Jamie pulling up a chair to join them.

“I thought we were going to starve to death without you two around,” Sarris said, taking as large a bite of his sausage as his mouth could accommodate. “Now I can look forward to another four months of good eating.”

“You can say that again,” Bradley added, sliding a fried egg onto his plate. “One more microwave-ready meal, and I was gonna take a short walk out of an airlock.”

“What was in all those plastic containers we brought onboard yesterday?” Higgins asked, the engineer pausing to chew on a rind of crunchy bacon.

“Resin, not plastic,” Jamie replied as he reached over to grab a salt shaker from the middle of the table. “The Bugs on Jarilo make it. They were full of baby formula.”

“Really?” Higgins said, raising an eyebrow. “That must be a hell of a lot of formula.”

“Well, we’re having a hell of a lot of babies,” Liz added as she made her way over to them. She sat down on the floor at the head of the table, piling her plate with fried meat.

“How many is a hell of a lot?” Jessie asked, Liz flashing her a toothy grin.

“Five.”

“Five!” Higgins exclaimed, almost choking on his bacon. “Fuck me, why are you having five kids?”

“Borealans reproduce in litters,” Jessie explained. “One pregnancy could result in five, six, or even seven kittens.”

Higgins gave Jamie a sympathetic look across the table, resuming his breakfast without further comment.

“I still can’t believe you managed to pull it off,” Jessie continued, the biochemist practically shivering with anticipation at the prospect of discussing the experiment in detail. “We downloaded all of Doctor Sousa’s data before we jumped away, and I can’t wait to sink my teeth into it. What was it like?”

“Standard IVF treatment, for the most part,” Liz replied. “At least, according to Doctor Sousa. The strangest part was the gene-editing, which required some Jarilan tech.”

“What kind of tech?” she asked.

“It looked like someone had hooked up a cow’s stomach to a bank of computers,” Jamie replied, Jessie grimacing at the mental image. “It was this big, pulsating organ that the Jarilans told us came from a Betelgeusian Queen.”

“They grew it artificially,” Liz added. “It didn’t actually come from a Queen.”

“Yeah,” Jamie continued with a nod. “So, this organ could sequence DNA, and it could also map out the relationships between genes somehow. That was what got Sousa and his team so excited. The Bugs hooked the thing up to the server racks, just plugged it into the network like it was a storage drive.”

“It could actually determine the functions of the genes?” she asked, her eyes widening as she poised with a piece of sausage on the end of her fork.

“And how they interacted with one another,” Liz added.

“Now I really want to get a look at those files,” Jessie chuckled.

“What are the babies going to look like?” Sarris asked.

“Pretty much exactly like Liz,” Jamie explained. “They spliced in as many of my genes into the mix as they could, but it’s better to have the children resemble the mother. Makes the pregnancy safer.”

“Sarris, you’re not eating enough,” Liz said as she shoveled another helping of bacon and eggs onto the confused man’s plate. “Have a little more, it’ll help put some meat on those bones.”

She lay her head in her furry hand, watching the crew eat with a satisfied smile. Liz had enjoyed cooking for them on the way to Jarilo, but never to this extent. After a few minutes, she slapped her palms on the table, getting everyone’s attention as she rose to her feet.

“Who wants dessert? I feel like making some pancakes. Jamie, fetch me some butter and syrup, would you?”

He did as she asked, glancing back at the table, where there was still a very sizable spread of food. Pancakes weren’t exactly a dessert, the crew would probably struggle to eat what she had already cooked for them, but there was a spring in her step as she returned to the stove. Before long, she was flipping pancakes, her tail waving back and forth as she piled them high on a tray on the counter beside her. She was going all-out, adding chocolate chips to the batter, slathering them in butter and syrup. One of the cupboards had been hiding a can of strawberries, which she was happily cutting into slices. They weren’t farm fresh, but so deep in space, having fruit of any kind was a rare treat.

She soon returned to the table with her haul of pancakes, watching contentedly as the crew took some rather conservative servings. Not satisfied with their lack of appetite, she encouraged them to eat more, Sarris looking to Jamie in a silent plea for help as she piled his plate six inches high with melted butter and chocolate.

“I made them human-sized,” she said, “so don’t be shy if you want seconds.”

The crew were soon full to bursting, only Jessie able to resist the allure of the pancakes. Rather than the hearty breakfast getting them ready for the day, most of them looked ready to go straight back to bed. Liz was finally satisfied, Jamie giving her a sideways glance.

When they had all filed out of the room, he joined Liz in loading the dishwasher, carrying over a stack of plates.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked. She seemed happy, beaming as she slotted the cutlery into the racks, but he wasn’t sure how else to phrase his question.

“I feel fine,” she chimed, hitting the touch panel on the machine with her padded finger as she set the cycle going. She stood up, planting her hands on her hips, peering down at him curiously. “Why do you ask?”

“I just think you might have given Sarris refeeding syndrome with all those pancakes.”

She put a hand to her mouth, chuckling to herself.

“Don’t you think he looks thin?”

“A little,” Jamie conceded. “Just go a little easier on the portions next time, or we’re all gonna put on fifty pounds by the time we reach Earth.”

Liz lifted her shirt over her head, reaching up to cup one of her breasts, wincing as she gave it a gentle squeeze. Jamie watched from their nest of cushions and sheets, stifling a yawn as she examined herself in front of the wall-length mirror in their quarters.

“They’re getting so heavy,” she grumbled. “I swear I’ve gone up a bra size already. I’m just glad I’m not on Borealis right now. Another thirty-percent gravity would really be a kick in the teeth.”

“But you never wear a bra,” Jamie replied.

“Do they look bigger to you?” she asked, turning towards him. She was being clinical about it, but seeing her standing there topless as she fondled a pair of breasts larger than his head in her hands, it was hard to be objective.

“I mean ... they’ve always been big,” he replied. “Maybe I should examine them more closely...”

“You’re used to being rough with me,” she began, covering them up protectively. “But I’m super tender right now, so you’d better treat me like I’m made of glass.”

“If it’s really that uncomfortable, we can just abstain for a while,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m not gonna die if I go a few weeks without sex.”

Liz let one of her breasts fall, lifting a curved claw to her lips, chewing on its sharp tip hesitantly as she considered. The flush in her cheeks betrayed the salacious thoughts that were racing through her mind.

“Let’s not go that far,” she replied. “Truth be told, with all these hormonal changes, I’ve been feeling kind of ... squirmy.”

“Squirmy?” he chuckled.

“Sousa told me that there would be increased blood flow, that I might see some minor swelling, but it’s made me really sensitive. I feel like if I just touch myself down there, I’m gonna pop. I read that sex is supposed to help ease discomfort, too,” she added. “It releases a chemical called oxytocin.”

“Well, if it’s about releasing oxytocin, I guess I have no choice. Strictly for medical purposes, of course,” he joked.

“Alright, smart-ass,” she replied with a smirk. “Put those dull fingers to use, and be gentle with me. I’ve never had to worry about you being rough before, but I’ve never felt so ... fragile.”

Jamie watched her strip off the rest of her clothes, then she lowered herself into the nest beside him, shifting her weight to get comfortable. She lay on her back, gravity spreading her ample breasts, Liz opening her legs almost nervously as she waited for him to take the initiative. This new fragility lit a fire in him. Even when they were teenagers, Liz had always been tough, and she was a downright tank after returning from Borealis. She was five-hundred-pounds and eight feet of almost pure muscle, she could have wrestled a Siberian tiger into submission, but she was now so sensitive that his merest touch made her shiver.

Her green eyes tracked his hand as he slowly reached for her breast, gently cupping it. She gasped, the motion making her flesh quiver, Jamie weighing it in his palm. It really did feel larger, heavier, even if only by a little. He was familiar enough with her breasts that even a small change would be obvious to him. He let the wobbling globe’s weight sink his fingers a little deeper, Liz gritting her teeth.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, glancing up at her beet-red face. “I’m trying to be as gentle as I can.”

“I ... I dunno,” she murmured, rubbing her powerful thighs together.

“You don’t know?” he chuckled.

“It’s like all my wires are crossed,” she replied. “It’s sore, but it feels kind of good. K-keep going...”

He did as she asked, starting to massage her breast with tentative strokes, bringing his other hand to bear as he struggled to wrangle the weighty mass of fat. Liz squirmed in the sheets, her entire body seeming to move in time with his gentle kneading, her face contorting into an expression that could have been either delight or discomfort.

“Use your words, Liz.”

“Don’t stop,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “It’s feeling better the more you do it.”

His eyes turned to her nipple, as engorged as he had ever seen it, standing up like a fleshy tent peg. As he gave it a slow lick, Liz loosed a sharp gasp, her spine rising from the sheets in a perfect arch.

“Ah!” she wailed, her cry tapering into a shuddering sigh.

“Fuck, is it really ‘that’ sensitive?” Jamie asked.

“Mhmm,” she mumbled, nodding her head.

“Do you want me to keep-”

“I said don’t stop, didn’t I?” she interrupted.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, pursing his lips around her nipple. It was so swollen that he felt like he was sucking on the tip of someone’s finger. He slowly painted it with his tongue, being as careful as he could manage, abstaining from his usual pinching. Tremors rolled through Liz’s toned body with every glance, her toes clawing at the sheets, her thighs pressed tightly together.

“Oh my God,” she muttered, half a sigh and half a nervous giggle. “I’ve never felt like I could get off just from having you mess with my boobs before. It’s like my whole body is a live wire.”

“Maybe we should get you knocked up more often,” he replied, pausing his mouthing for a moment.

“Don’t tempt me,” she added with a sultry chuckle, tapering off into a low moan as he returned his lips to the tender nub of flesh. He delighted in the way that she jumped and twitched as he circled it with his tongue, so much more responsive than usual, like a puppet dancing on the end of its strings.

He slid a hand down her belly, still taut and firm, feeling her chiseled abs twitch with anticipation as he neared her mound. As he slipped his fingers between her thighs, they began to shake, the lightest touch of his digits enough to make her buck. Jamie glanced down, seeing that her lips were swollen with arousal, her clitoris protruding from beneath its hood as though begging for his attention. The way that her slick juices made her loins gleam under the dim lights of their quarters made them look sore and needy.

“I guess this is that increased blood flow you mentioned,” he muttered.

“I feel like I’m on fire,” she grumbled, her breathing growing shallow as she glanced down at his hand. “Be gentle...”

Jamie lowered his hand, cupping her puffy loins, feeling their feverish heat against his palm. He applied just a little pressure, her clitoris pressing into his skin, Liz starting to shake again as he began to rub. She quickly began to grind against his hand, desperate for more stimulation. He dared to slide two fingers inside her, feeling the muscles in her depths grip him tightly, twitching around his digits. It really did feel like a live current was being run through her body. She couldn’t keep still, even for a moment.

“F-fuck, Jamie,” she growled. “Hurry up, g-get me off. I can’t take much more of this.”

He started to move his fingers, curling them against the roof of her spasming passage as he had done so many times. She responded far more strongly than she ever had before, sweat already coating her dusky skin in a shining layer, her hips bucking into the air as she tried to fuck his hand.

Liz had to bite her fist to stifle a cry as he returned his lips to her nipple, drawing it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as she dug herself deeper into the pile of blankets with her writhing. He mouthed and sucked, his hand moving between her thighs, Liz covering her face with her furry mitts as she lifted her butt from the deck with his every stroke.

“God,” she mumbled, her voice muffled. “I’m c-close, k-keep it...” She could barely formulate a sentence, as though she had suddenly developed a stutter, her plea tapering off into an incoherent series of quiet yelps and groans.

Jamie upped his pace, feeling her drooling loins clench around his fingers, her contractions coming thick and fast. He rubbed the ball of his hand against the firm bud of her clitoris, his teasing circles sending her tumbling over the edge. It felt like her burning, sodden flesh was vibrating, her hips rising from the nest again as she fucked the air reflexively. Beads of sweat glistened as they welled on her skin, the taut muscles of her abdomen flexing with each tremor that rocked her, Liz reaching down to push his hand away as though the stimulation had suddenly become too much to stand.

He withdrew, a sagging strand of her juices dangling from his wet fingers, his heart racing as she watched the orgasm tear through her. Liz had never gotten off this quickly before, never this hard, not without building her up for a while first. Her athletic form was on display, her muscles bulging, the soft parts of her feminine figure quivering as her shuddering climax rolled over her in pitiless waves.

Panting, dripping with sweat and fluids, she finally collapsed into the sheets. She was exhausted, still trembling, her eyes unfocused as they stared vacantly at the ceiling above.

“Liz?” Jamie asked. “You good?”

“Feels better,” she sighed, breaking out into a giddy grin. “So much better...”

“Are you still sore?”

“A little,” she replied, starting to come around now. “But it’s mostly gone now. Feels kind of like ... loosening a knot during a back massage, y’know? It hurts, but it hurts ... good.”

“I’ve never seen you like this before,” he chuckled, realizing that he was just as red in the face as she was. “Not even when we were horny teenagers.”

“I guess it’s the hormones making me crazy,” she replied, giggling again. “If that’s the case, then sanity is overrated.”

Jamie and Liz found themselves in the Magellan’s cargo bay during their search for more ingredients for one of Liz’s recipes. The room extended up through two decks, the walls piled high with storage crates and cargo containers. Jamie felt like he was standing in some kind of warehouse or factory, craning his neck as he looked up at the ceiling high above. Unlike the rest of the ship, which had been designed to be relatively comfortable, there were no whitewashed walls or blue carpets here. It was all exposed metal and structural supports, the walls lined with gantries that were accessible from each deck, allowing the crew to reach the higher containers like some kind of industrial library. The floor was painted with yellow warning strips, presumably denoting where whatever machinery that would load and unload the cargo would operate. Some of these containers were far too big to fit inside the airlock, so Jamie surmised that the deck or perhaps one of the walls would open up to allow for larger objects to be passed through.

Bradley, the requisitions officer, was off in one corner of the bay. He was stacking some smaller crates by hand, unloading them from a wheeled cart. His job was managing the cargo on the ship and keeping track of their resources. If someone wanted something that wasn’t in the kitchen or in one of the vending machines, they had to go through him.

“Hey, Bradley,” Jamie called. The man turned to glance at them, wiping his brow on the sleeve of his coveralls.

“What brings you two down here?” he asked, Jamie still struggling to place his accent. It might be Australian, or maybe New Zealand.

“We’ve run out of baking dough,” Liz replied.

“Baking dough?” he asked, raising a bushy eyebrow. “Just how much baking have you been doing?”

“Enough to run out of baking dough,” she replied with a grin.

“Alright, alright, I’ll see what I can do. Just let me finish stacking these crates...”

Liz watched him, cocking her head, then made her way over to his side. She plucked the crate that he was holding from his hands, Bradley glancing up at her with a confused expression on his face as she placed it atop the pile.

“I got it,” she chirped happily, lifting another from the cart.

“You really don’t need to-”

“Nonsense, you look like you’re about to collapse. Sit down, take a breather. I’ll take care of it.”

Bradley turned to Jamie, and he gave the confused req officer a shrug, the two of them watching as Liz finished up his work.

“Guess I’ll go find you that dough,” he said, making his way over to a computer console that was mounted on the wall. He tapped at the touch panel for a few moments, pulling up the manifest, scrolling through the list. “Here we go,” he muttered, turning towards the nearest elevator. It was an open platform encircled by a railing for safety, just large enough to fit one of the bigger containers. It began to rise, bringing him to the upper deck, where he opened the doors to one of the shipping containers and stepped inside. Jamie could hear him rummaging around for a few moments, then he emerged with a cardboard box in his hands. After descending again, he handed it off to Liz.

“There should be enough there to last you a good while,” he said, making a note of it on the manifest. “Just put it away in the kitchen somewhere.”

“I’m making steak pie tonight,” Liz announced, clasping the box under one arm. “I’m defrosting some of the beef from the freezer, and I’m making a gravy filling with mushrooms. I hope you’ll drop by.”

“Sounds good, but I’m probably going to be too busy tonight,” he replied. “My shift is gonna have me working late. I’m still taking inventory of the stuff we picked up from Jarilo.”

“But, you have to eat,” Liz protested. “You can’t just work yourself to exhaustion.”

“I’m fine, really,” he chuckled. “Just put some in the freezer for me, and I’ll warm it up another time.”

Liz seemed dissatisfied with his response, but she didn’t press the issue.

The pie had been a hit, its remnants sitting in a mostly empty pan in the center of the table, only a few pastry crumbs and gravy stains left over. Liz seemed to have taken Jamie’s advice to heart and had stopped foisting second and third helpings on the crew. She really seemed to be enjoying cooking for them, watching them eat with a satisfied expression on her face. As the low murmur of conversation filled the galley, she excused herself, moving over to the kitchen counter. Curious as to what she might be doing, Jamie rose from his seat, walking over to join her.

She had saved a slice of pie and was placing it inside a plastic container, along with a knife and fork. She sealed the lid, then noticed that she had an audience.

“It’s for Bradley,” she explained. “He’s working so hard down in the cargo bay, I can’t stand the thought of him going hungry.”

“So, you packed him lunch?” Jamie chuckled. “He said it was fine to leave him a piece in the freezer, Liz.”

“It won’t taste as good reheated,” she grumbled.

“Bradley isn’t a kid who needs you to pack his lunches,” he continued, leaning against the counter. “I’m pretty sure he’s about thirty-five years old.”

“I know, but...” She glanced over at the crew who were sitting around the table, her expression softening. “I dunno, I just don’t like the thought of them missing a meal.”

Jamie didn’t intend to stop her. For all he knew, Bradley was going to appreciate the gesture. He decided to follow her down to the bay, curious to see how the man would react. As they entered the cavernous room, he called down to them from one of the higher catwalks, his voice echoing.

“Back already? You forget an ingredient or something?”

“I thought I’d bring you a slice of pie,” Liz called back to him, brandishing the container. “It’s still warm.”

Bradley made his way down, Liz waiting there for him as the elevator ground to a stop. She handed him the box, and he popped the lid, the scent of steak and gravy banishing his skepticism.

“Uh ... thanks,” he said, glancing up at her as she beamed at him. “Guess it won’t hurt to take a five-minute break.”