Emily smiled and got up from her chair. She set the tablet down on a counter lining one wall of the room and retrieved an object from the cupboard above. It was an egg-shaped object with skin made of a smooth, rubber-like substance, the size of a large loaf of bread, or more accurately, an average-sized newborn baby, "This," she said, hefting the device, "is Sim. This is what our simulated pregnancies build over the course of days, weeks or months. This is the usual size of the 53-hour initial test run. Basically," she held the roughly 8-pound lump out for Jenna to take, "from the moment of conception," she pointed a finger at Jason, "presumably when your man her does his thing, this thing will grow from about the size of a grain of sand into that," she pointed at the device, "after which time you'll have a quick labor and, well, if you'll pardon the expression, lay an egg."<br/><br/>The doc let that sink in for a moment. Jason stifled a chuckle at the mental image. Then she continued. "You then return the Sim and we'll give you a decision in 24 hours. It basically gives us a sanity check as to whether the body you have will be suited for long-term pregnancy," she eyed Jenna's body, "I know your hips are a bit of an add-on at the moment, but you might just want to keep them, or something like them."