Date: Wed, 10 Dec 2003 15:03:12 -0000
From: Beverly Taff <bevanhulse@totalise.co.uk>
Subject: Two by Two Chapter 7

Two by Two.
Chapter 7.


     After a month of waiting to determine progress,
Steve and Vicky were finally compelled to accept Steve's
fate.   Vicky continued working at the university but
Steve was forced to give up his post.       He was able
to occasionally assist with problem solving because his
tremendous intellect was still intact.     Talking was
difficult.   Inhaling hot smoke had scarred his trachea
but he could occasionally croak out a short sentence.
To avoid straining his larynx, special arrangements had
been installed by attaching a 'pointer to a strap on his
forehead and he would tap out his thoughts on a keyboard.
In this mode, he worked in a 'consultative' capacity with
his university colleagues via the Internet.      It
brought him an income but the rest of his life was in
ruins.     This lifestyle worked at the intellectual
level between Steve and Vicky but Vicky dearly missed the
physical side of their relationship, especially as Zac
was lying vegetating on a slab at the lab.
     For Vicky it was a doubly cruel twist of fate.
Both her sexual partners were now denied to her.     She
was becoming depressed and frustrated.   Each night she
was forced to lie in bed struggling to relieve her urges
whilst cursing her total loss.
     One day she came home after dropping the triplets
off at a friend's birthday party when she found Steve
asleep in front of his computer.      The screen saver
displayed the usual request for the password and Vicky
realised Steve had left a message.    The codeword that
they shared to allow her to read his most intimate
thoughts and she opened up the computer as Steve slept.
He slept at odd times because his body clock was
virtually none-existent now.
     She opened the screen to read a begging note.
     "Dear Vicky, I want to end it!"
     Vicky's heart missed several beats as she tried to
ingest the message.
     "No!"   She screamed.    "No!  No!  No-owooohh!!"
     Steve's eyes blinked with shock and his wakening
mind span as her deafening screams ripped through his
eardrums into his consciousness.    His heart thundered
with shock but of course, his body lay completely inert.
Not a twitch, not a muscle moved!       This was the
living death that he wanted to end and tears poured down
his cheeks.
Vicky dabbed them softly as her own tears flooded and she
desperately tried to kiss him.   She knew it was only his
head that had any sensations so kissing his cheeks and
lips was the only emotional connection they could now
make.   His salty tears served only to reinforce their
isolation.    They were the only part of him that she
could now taste and share.
     Her shoulders convulsed as she tried to hug him and
make him change his mind.   The very fact that he wanted
to die seemed somehow to be a criticism of her care.
     'Was she looking after him enough?   Was she giving
him enough stimulation; mentally that was?'       She
knew she could never ever share physical sensations with
him again.   His body was completely destroyed, the crash
and ensuing fire had seen to that.
The only sensation that Steve got was headaches,
toothaches, sore gums and Vicky's kisses.      He
couldn't even rub his eyes!      Life for Steve was all
down hill and he wanted out.
     "I want to die," he croaked softly.
     "No!  Please don't say that!     I want you.    Even
as you are, I still want you, I love you!"
     Vicky knew she was being selfish.    She knew
Steve's life was an agony but the thought of losing the
only thing that had any meaning to her own life was
unbearable.    She had to find some way of making his
life better.
     That evening Betty, Jacky and Beverly came around.
Their arrival always improved the situation and it gave
both Vicky and Steve a massive intellectual boost.    It
was always a sad time when they finally had to leave.
They had no secrets from each other and it wasn't long
before they were discussing Steve's wish to end it all.
     Eventually, it was Beverly who tentatively made a
suggestion.
     "If you could have some sort of body transplant,
everything would be O.K."
     "Pure fantasy!" tapped Steve on his keyboard.
     "Why not?    I had a womb and ovary transplant and I
get sensation from my bitch nipples so the nerve
connections are OK.          It's not that big a step,
surely?"
     Betty, Vicky and Steve all responded simultaneously
as they tried to explain the difference between the
simple surgery of Beverly's transplant compared with the
complexities of a complete ' brain transplant'.
     For a moment the conversation became a garbled
cacophony of confusion until Vicky eventually calmed
everybody down.
     "It's a none starter Beverly.      The complexities
of the spinal chord are far beyond the medical skills
available.        It's like an ape with boxing gloves
trying to reconnect all the phones in America."
     "Well it's that or Steve dies."   Argued Beverly as
she turned to Steve.   "What d'you say Steve?"
     "It won't work.    Vicky's right," tapped Steve as
his throat became too sore to croak.
      "But it would be worth investigating," protested
Beverly.      "What about my doctor in Africa.      He
was doing all sorts of stuff.     He may have come a long
way by now."
     "If he was doing anything worthwhile.     D'you
think we wouldn't have heard about it?"   Objected Vicky.
     "You didn't know about my transplant.   You admitted
yourselves that you were shocked!     Doctor Ahmed is a
very retiring and humble man.     He knows his work is
extremely controversial but it sure works for us
transsexuals.        He doesn't trumpet his own praises
to the rest of the world but I'll bet he's moved on miles
from where he was when he operated on me."
     Vicky, Betty and Steve fell silent.    Beverly
obviously hid her light under a bushel.    There was more
inside that head of hers than a transsexual,
dysfunctional bimbo.    Beverly sensed she had struck a
chord and pressed her suite.
     "Would it do any harm if I contacted him.   He keeps
his private telephone a closely guarded secret and
doesn't normally respond to outsiders, but I'm special.
I was his first.    He keeps in touch with me and I have
his number."
     Slowly Steve tilted his head thoughtfully forwards
and tapped out his reply.
     "It can't do any physical harm.     I suppose, it
will do no harm to contact him."
     "That's as may be," objected Vicky, "but where will
we get a body donor?     A body that's genetically
acceptable and a sufficient DNA Match.   A body that's
brain dead, a body that the relatives are prepared to
donate."
     Beverly gaped at them as though her friends were
stupid
     "Why Zac of course!    Isn't he genetically
compatible!    His body is genetically compatible and
he's just lying there.    His body is perfect but he's a
virtual vegetable.     Besides, we are what we are and we
all loved Zac dearly!    Let's not delude ourselves.   If
Zac were alive now, all of you would be indulging his
services.    It's only Billy's possessiveness that
prevented me from trying it on.    I was often tempted
for he's a lovely looking dog."
     A stunned silence befell the group.
     In one alarming leap of ethics, Beverly had
surmounted many legal and moral hurdles.    Vicky stared
at Steve with the question writ large in her eyes.
     "Well?"
     Steve's brain was doing back flips as he ran all the
unknowns through his once cold logical intellect.
     'This was one question he would have to really think
about.       This time it was emotional, really
emotional!       His brain, in Zac's body!!'      A
fricassee of nervous anticipation flickered in his brain.
'Could it really be done?' he asked himself.
     Hesitantly he tapped out his consent for Beverly to
approach her shadowy friend in Africa.   As it stuttered
from the printer, Vicky read the page.
     "This is strictly a permission to seek an opinion
only.     It is not a consent to proceed!"
     Beverly nodded and left for her apartment with Billy
her Alsatian Partner.      She had no intentions of
disclosing Ahmed's whereabouts.   In the early hours of
the morning she made the secret phone call.
     "A brain transplant!"    Gasped Ahmed.
     "Well it's that or a slow death through muscular
deterioration or a quick death.    He's suicidal and he
knows his options.    He's a doctor; a professor of
medicine."
     "I, - I'm not sure about that.   That's asking a
lot.     A step too far I think."
     "He knows the risks.      His Name is Professor
Steven Morgan.    You might have heard of him."
     "Who?    The one who was injured in that car crash
in Canada?"
     "Yes, the very same."
     "Ah yes.    I've read a lot of his work; and some
stuff by his colleague, Dr Vicky Morgan.    She's married
to him isn't she?"
     "Yes."
     "So what does she think of all this?"
     "She's as worried as I am.    She doesn't want to
lose him.    She doesn't want to lose his brain and all
that; you know, the intellectual stimulation and stuff.
It's all way above my head but I'm the only one who knows
how to get in touch with you."
     "I'd have to speak directly to them.   This is a
huge step.   I'm not at all sure-."
     "Well you can try.        I'll call you again
tomorrow.   I'll be in their flat with my Mobile Phone.
Doctor Steven Morgan can contact you by email."
     "OK then, until tomorrow.     By the way, how are
you managing?"
     "Well, as you know, I had the puppies without
complications.      All thirteen of them have turned out
perfectly.    I've given most away.     I've only kept
one female, and of course, their farther."
     "Amazing.   You're very brave.   I'll speak tomorrow
then."
     And so it happened.               In the small hours
of the morning, Dr Ahmed spoke with Vicky and Steve and
they explored the options and risks.     For two more
weeks, Steve mulled the idea in his mind, whilst Vicky
danced on tenterhooks wondering if he would choose
suicide or doggy-hood.
     Steve spent a lot of time talking to Beverly.   He
had no one else to turn to.     Beverly was the only
person he knew that had the remotest idea of how it felt
to have doggy parts transplanted into her body.      At
first, he was embarrassed about asking her such intimate
questions but Beverly eventually broke what little ice
existed.    She explained all the strange additional
sensations she enjoyed.     She boldly told him that she
understood his fears, but explained that she had no
reservations or regrets about altering her body.
     "Look at this way Steve," she told him, "if you
really are contemplating suicide then remember that you
cannot achieve it without Vicky's inclusion.     That
would put an unnecessary ethical obligation on her.
How would you like it if you had to kill her by making a
suicide injection available?       You're not being fair
to Vicky.     I believe you should give the Zac idea a
chance.    Zac's dead.    His brain is destroyed, crushed
and pulped by the crash.    Even his head is all
deformed.     His body though, is completely unharmed and
Vicky is loath to switch him off.      You could graft
your cranium onto Zac's skull and with some cosmetic
surgery; the shape shouldn't be too obvious.     If it
doesn't work, and you die under surgery, then at least
Vicky will understand that she has explored all the
options.    She will not need to feel guilty."




     Inside his paralysed body, Steve was inwardly
impressed.
     'Gosh, how Beverly so cleverly argued!     She was
right though,' he concluded.      'The surgery would in
all probability fail and he would join Zac in whatever
after-life existed for dogs and men.   But at least Vicky
would be spared the guilt of 'switching him off' or
preparing a suicide scenario.'
         He tapped out his agreement on the computer and
Beverly's heart thumped as she called Vicky over.
     Steve looked at Vicky and sighed as he prepared to
draw breath and talk.
     "Yesss," he croaked painfully to Vicky.    "We may
as well give it a go.   Are you happy?"
     "It's the only alternative to suicide," sobbed
Vicky.
     A silence fell on the group as they sat around the
bed.   Even Zeta and Billy seemed to sense something
auspicious was afoot and they whined nervously.
     That same night, Doctor Ahmed got the call and
within a week, he was in America.
     The arrangements proved complicated.     The hardest
part was transporting Zac's vegetative body inside a life
support envelope.      This required special air cargo
arrangements to Africa and it stretched their combined
resources to the limit.    Fortunately, Beverly's income
from the club - hotel partnership managed to cover a
large part of the expense.   After several months,
everything was prepared for the transplant.
     The girls explained everything to Doctor Ahmed
including their intimate relationships.   There could be
no secrets.    Ahmed just shrugged philosophically.
He had encountered far worse examples of abuse and many
of these had been forcibly imposed upon the victims.
     'At least this group did it voluntarily,' he
surmised, 'and the animals didn't suffer.'
     As they discussed every aspect of the procedure,
they even decided to return one of Zac's testicles back
to Zac's scrotum from what would become, Steve's
discarded body.   This would make the new combined being
of Zac-Steve capable of fathering both puppies and
babies.
     "It's a good job I know that there are no rejection
problems," observed Ahmed as he carefully prepared for
the forthcoming transplant.    "The testicular transplant
will be virtually an afterthought."
     Vicky felt a twitch of anticipation in her loins as
she prayed for success.
     For the operation, Ahmed adopted the lead role with
his regular team around him whilst Vicky concentrated on
Zac.    At the point of actual brainstem conjunction,
Vicky and Ahmed found themselves intimately involved
surgically.   As they advanced the microsurgery, each
learned to respect the other's ability.
     It was nearly two days before the whole procedure
was complete, then it was a month of slow recovery.   For
the first two weeks Steve was kept unconscious then he
was allowed brief moments of consciousness until the pain
became bearable.    The team had no way of knowing if the
procedure was successful, until Steve-Zac was up and
responding coherently.
     The hardest part of the procedure had proved to be
the reshaping of Zac's scull to form a receptive 'basin'
to enable a proper mating with Steve's cranium.    The
cosmetic trick was to do this without the size increase
being too obvious.     It meant that Steve-Zac's new
scull had a somewhat domed appearance similar to a
spaniel's but all in all, it was not too obvious.     A
useful cosmetic device had been to relocate Zac's ears
lower down the scull so that his overall scull height was
disguised.        Also, the pitch of the atlas and axis
bones at the top of the vertebrate was altered to hide
the occipital enlargement under the thick fur of Zac's
neck.     This altered Steve-Zac's head posture and made
him always appear alert and interested.     The biggest
'give-away' was the colour of the human eyes.     Steve
wanted to keep his human sight with all its colour and
telescopic perception.     This necessitated Steve's eye
sockets remaining attached to his cranium and it gave
Zac's scull a noticeable 'brow' if one looked closely.
Fortunately, Zac's thick fur also hid most of this.
All in all, Vicky and Ahmed were pleased with the
cosmetic results.
      After two weeks being deliberately kept unconscious
with drugs, the day came to address the success of the
brain transplant.        This consisted of testing his
reactions regularly until they were sure of a coherent
response.
     With every improved response, Vicky felt success
getting closer.      The first time Steve-Zac blinked was
an exciting moment and Vicky immediately tried talking.
     "If you understand me Steve-Zac, blink twice."
     Steve-Zac's eyes fluttered momentarily then finally
gave two slow, clear Blinks.
     Vicky and Ahmed squeezed each other's hands as they
tensed nervously and Ahmed repeated the request.
     "Can you blink them three times?"
     "Once again the eyelids fluttered uncertainly then
finally gave three clear slow distinctive blinks.
     Vicky let out an involuntary squeal of pleasure and
hugged Ahmed to her as she kissed him passionately on the
cheek.     Ahmed crimsoned with embarrassment until the
mood of euphoria took him and he responded in kind.
     "His motor system is slowly recovering.    The slow
reaction is probably confusion and lack of familiarity
with his new body.      I think it will just be a matter
of time from now on.    The real test begins when he
tries walking and stuff.
     After two months, Steve-Zac was allowed to gently
try out his posture.    Carefully, he was lifted from the
bed and slowly slung into a supporting cradle while they
softly encouraged him.
     "Try your left arm."   Suggested Ahmed.
     Steve-Zac's right foreleg moved and Ahmed let out a
sigh of dismay.
     "I think some of the nerves are crossed."
     "That's not a problem," observed Vicky, "his brain
should soon learn to compensate."
     "I hope so.   Steve, try your legs."
     The rear legs moved hesitantly and Steve-Zac let out
a low confused whine.
     "Damnation!"   Cursed Ahmed.    This'll take a bit
of time.   Steve-Zac, can you nod if you understand me."
     The 'dog's' head promptly nodded and Ahmed sagged
with relief as he spoke again.
     "Your motor nerves are a bit crossed, d'you want to
try to walk?"
     The 'dog' nodded again and Vicky carefully slackened
off the supporting cradle.     Steve-Zac whined and
paddled his paws sensitively.
     "He's got pins and needles."   Observed Ahmed.
     Steve-Zac nodded his head then tried stepping
forward.      The moves were tentative and slow but he
made clear progress across the floor.    Ahmed and Vicky
watched him stagger uncertainly out of the intensive care
unit then set of slowly but determinedly down the
corridor.
     "Where's he going?"   Wondered Ahmed aloud.
     "I think I know," replied Vicky as she followed her
partner down the corridor and stopped outside Ahmed's
office.
     "There's a computer in here.    D'you want to use
it?"   She asked Steve-Zac.
     The 'dog' nodded enthusiastically then wobbled into
the room towards the computer.
     Vicky felt her heart thumping as she realised Steve-
Zac was going to try and communicate.   She motioned to
Ahmed eagerly and they gently lifted the 'dog' onto the
computer table.      The 'dog' immediately extended a
tentative paw and clumsily stroked the keyboard.    Vicky
and Ahmed gazed ecstatically as coherent words appeared
on the screen.
     "Thank God!      I've been trying desperately to
communicate!"    Announced the computer.
     Vicky let out a shriek of delight and flung herself
sobbing into her Partner's thick ruff of fur.    The
'dog' yelped in pain and she quickly realised she had
hurt some sensitive wound.
     "Oh I'm sorry, but I'm so glad.    We'll bring the
computer into your room."
     "There's no need.   It will be good exercise to come
here every morning.      I'm tired now.   I want to go
back to bed."
     "Yes.   Yes, anything.     D'you want us to carry
you back?"
     "No."
     The brevity of the answer confirmed Steve-Zac's
weariness and they gently eased him back to the floor.
He struggled manfully to get his gait right but it was
obvious that the motor system from his brain was still
confused.   Ahmed and Vicky followed solicitously until
Steve-Zac had made it back to the pre-prepared bed where
he flopped down and immediately fell asleep.        Tears
of joy flooded down both Vicky and Ahmed's cheeks.