"Oh..." Rachel chirps, smiling over at me. "Well this team is testing putting physical animal traits into people to help ethically produce products like milk and cheese" she chirps giddily, her tongue poking out for a moment as she quickly licks at her lips.
My stomach sinks as I turn to my right, my back to the entrance of the wide machine, watching as a large four-legged figure stubbornly refuses to inch any further into the room. The light brown leathery hide appears to be patchy and aging, the cow well beyond its prime mooing loudly as a group of researchers try to shove it into the machine.
"You're wanting to give me some... some old udder or..." I manage to choke out, my train of thought derailing as I listen to the sound of a goat bleating angrily from down the hall.
"No no no" Rachel chirps, shaking her head and waving a hand dismissively. "There's no need to give you udders, your chest already has mammary glands... just not useful ones, you know" she explains, her own thoughts sentence being cut short by a loud screaming coming from somewhere deeper in the building.
"Jes... I told... pen the FUCKING bo..." shouts a furious voice, the exact words being lost over the terrified screams coming along with it.
One of the researchers nearby rushes out of the room, grabbing a net by the door as she races out into the hallway. "It's the Deathstalker" she calls out, zipping out of sight as she chases after the horrid-sounding creature.
"Death?..." I begin to mutter, my gaze darting back to Rachel. "...Stalker?"
"Oh... I don't really know the names of all the..." she begins to respond, her words being cut off by the tiny Filipino woman.
"Deathstalkers are a scorpion from the Middle East" she chirps excitedly, dusting off her labcoat from the heavy dust from the destroyed walls. "Their venom is really promising as a treatment for auto-immune disorders... it's just... they can only be milked for like a few milligrams each time at most..." she states, the excitement draining from her voice as the economic reality of the research sets in.
"But..." Rachel coos with a grin, her confidence returning in an instant. "What if it wasn't some teeny-tiny bug making the venom, what if it was a full-sized person?"
"I thought..." I blurt out, my eyes darting between the saddened young woman and my former mentor. "I thought this was just about... like... animal products?"
"Venom is an animal product" Rachel states with a smirk.
"No like milk and..." I retort, the tin young woman cutting me off.
"Oh, you milk venom" she states, answering with the fact seeming to break her out of her gloomy state.
"No, I mean I know that but... I thought you said things like milk and cheese, stuff people..."
"Yes yes milk and cheese, the stuff that vegan options don't quite get right for some reason" Rachel says waving her hand dismissively once more.
"It's the lack of casein pro..." the researcher tries to explain, her know-it-all interjections seeming to have less effect on Rachel each time.
"We're trying to make vegan options of all these things" Rachel chuckles, the tiny researcher giving her a pouty glare. "Well, not exactly vegan but you can at least agree to be paid for your products. Think of all the possibilities with this from milk and cheese to luxurious cashmere hair or soft down feath..."
"Spider's silk made to any length you want, commanding bees with just a thought and the release of some ethyl-based pheromones" the young researcher coos, beaming giddily at the more odd thoughts while Rachel shudders in discomfort.
"Yes yes..." Rachel huffs, her face a little pale at all the talk about creepy crawlies. "So Jordan, would you mind taking a seat in the..."
"But... but aren't those animals kind of..." I begin to balk, looking at the cow through the wall as its milky and partially blinded eyes look back at me.
"Old? Yeah, but you're not" Rachel chuckles, tapping my chest with the clipboard. "We aren't trading your relative ages, that'd make them..." she continues, nodding to the cow as it's lured into the machine with a clump of fresh vegetables and grass. "Around... five... maybe six in cow years and you on death's door."
"You'd be just around the start of prime milking age for a Jersey cow" the researcher chirps, her eyes moving down to stare at my chest. "If our calculations are right you'll be developing a high fat and protein content mil..."
"I haven't decided what he's receiving yet" Rachel grumbles, shaking the clipboard along with the single piece of paper clipped to it. "Or how many we're starting with."
"But... what about them?" I ask, trying to subtly talk my way out of the test. "What happens to the animals with my..."
"We'll keep them alive for as long as we can" the tiny researcher states with a smile, Rachel quickly following up with a smack to the young woman's shoulder.
"What she means to say is, they will be fine with your human traits. They're in their twilight years and in captivity so they don't need those pieces anymore." Rachel explains, her tone shifting as she tries to calm the situation down.
"And what if they..." I begin to ask, Rachel soon stepping up to place a hand on my shoulder as she cuts me off.
"Pass away? Don't worry, you'll be properly compensated and we will try our best to find a solution that suits all everyone. Trust me" she states, easily bending me to her point of view with her soothing motherly tones.
With a deep breath I give her a nod, the tiny researcher squealing with glee as she races back to her work. Taking a deep breath I sit back into the machine, my ass and back quickly coming into contact with the repurposed desk chair acting as the seat for the prototype machine.
"I'm glad to have you onboard" Rachel coos, singling at someone beyond my view as the metallic walls and wires around me begin to crackle.
The smell of o-zone quickly begins to fill the room, some of the frantic researchers backing off as blue arcs of electricity jump between the open pieces of the metal frame. It feels like something is subtly tugging at my body, the air around me wrapping as the power inside the chamber builds to many times greater than even the most advanced commercial Swap Clinic device around.
Sensing the concern Rachel begins to back up, glancing down at her clipboard.
"I'm going to check on the other teams" she states, ducking her larger frame out the doorframe. "Let's start Mr. Hughes off with...
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