“Gosh, I’ll need to think about that. Right now I have to give a lecture on antimatter.”
Goddamn it, I’m losing her, Berrington thought.
Then she said: “Can we talk again?”
Berrington grasped at a straw. “How about over dinner?”
She looked startled. “All right,” she said after a moment.
“Tonight?”
A bemused look came over her face. “Why not?”
That would give him another chance, at least. Relieved, he said: “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Okay.” She gave him her address and he made a note in a pocket pad.
“What kind of food do you like?” he said. “Oh, don’t answer that, I remember, you think about your particle accelerator.” They emerged into the hot sun. He squeezed her arm lightly. “See you tonight.”
“Berry,” she said, “you’re not after something, are you?”
He winked at her. “What have you got?”
She laughed and walked away.
35
TEST-TUBE BABIES. IN VITRO FERTILIZATION. THAT WAS THE link. Jeannie saw it all.
Charlotte Pinker and Lorraine Logan had both been treated for subfertility at the Aventine Clinic. The clinic had pioneered in vitro fertilization: the process by which sperm from the father and an egg from the mother are brought together in the laboratory, and the resulting embryo is then implanted in the woman’s womb.
Identical twins occur when an embryo splits in half, in the womb, and becomes two individuals. That might have happened in the test tube. Then the twins from the test tube could have been implanted in two different women. That was how identical twins could be born to two unrelated mothers. Bingo.
The waitress brought Jeannie’s salad, but she was too excited to eat it.
Test-tube babies were no more than a theory in the early seventies, she was sure. But Genetico had obviously been years ahead in its research.
Both Lorraine and Charlotte said they had been given hormone therapy. It seemed the clinic had lied to them about their treatment
That was bad enough, but as Jeannie thought through the implications she realized something worse. The embryo that split might have been the biological child of Lorraine and Charles, or of Charlotte and the Major—but not both. One of them had been implanted with another couple’s child.
Jeannie’s heart filled with horror and loathing as she realized they could both have been given the babies of total strangers.
She wondered why Genetico had deceived its patients in this appalling way. The technique was untried: perhaps they needed human guinea pigs. Maybe they had applied for permission and had been refused. Or they could have had some other reason for secrecy.
Whatever their motive for lying to the women, Jeannie now understood why her investigation scared Genetico so badly. Impregnating a woman with an alien embryo, without her knowledge, was about as unethical as could be imagined. It was no wonder they were desperate to cover it up. If Lorraine Logan ever found out what had been done to her, there would be hell to pay.
She took a sip of coffee. The drive to Philadelphia had not been wasted after all. She did not yet have all the answers, but she had solved the central puzzle. It was deeply satisfying.
Looking up, she was astonished to see Steve walk in.
She blinked and stared. He was wearing khakis and a blue button-down, and as he came in he closed the door behind him with his heel.
She smiled broadly and stood up to greet him. “Steve!” she said delightedly. Remembering her resolution, she threw her arms around him and kissed him on the lips. He smelled different today, less tobacco and more spice. He hugged her to him and kissed her back. She heard the voice of an older woman saying, “My God, I remember when I felt like that,” and several people laughed.
She released him. “Sit here. Do you want something to eat? Share my salad. What are you doing here? I can’t believe it. You must have followed me. No, no, you knew the name of the clinic and you decided to meet me.”
“I just felt like talking to you.” He smoothed his eyebrows with the tip of his index finger. Something about the action bothered her—Who else have I seen do that?—but she pushed it to the back of her mind.
“You go in for big surprises.”
Suddenly he seemed edgy. “I do?”
“You like to show up unexpectedly, don’t you?”
“I guess so.”
She smiled at him. “You’re a little strange today. What’s on your mind?”
“Listen, you got me all hot and bothered,” he said. “Can we get out of here?”
“Sure.” She put a five-dollar bill on the table and stood up.
“Where’s your car?” she said as they stepped outside.
“Let’s take yours.”
They got into the red Mercedes. She fastened her seat belt, but he did not. As soon as she pulled away he edged close to her on the bench seat, lifted her hair, and started kissing her neck. She liked it, but she felt embarrassed, and she said: “I think we may be a little too old to do this in a car.”
“Okay,” he said. He stopped and turned to face forward, but he left his arm draped around her shoulders. She was heading east on Chestnut. As they came to the bridge he said: “Take the expressway—there’s something I want to show you.” Following the signs, she turned right onto Schuylkill Avenue and pulled up at a stoplight.
The hand over her shoulder dropped lower and he started fondling her breast. She felt her nipple stiffen in response to his touch, but all the same she felt uncomfortable. It was strangely like being felt up on a subway train. She said: “Steve, I like you, but you’re going a little too fast for me.”
He made no reply, but his fingers found her nipple and pinched it hard.
“Ow!” she said. “That hurt! For Pete’s sake, what’s got into you?” She shoved him away with her right hand. The light turned green and she drove down the on-ramp for the Schuylkill Expressway.
“I don’t know where I am with you,” he complained. “First you kiss me like a nymphomaniac, then you freeze.”
And I imagined this boy was mature! “Listen, a girl kisses you because she wants to kiss you. It’s not a license for you to do anything the hell you want to her. And you should never hurt.” She eased onto the southbound two-lane of the expressway.
“Some girls like to be hurt,” he said, putting a hand on her knee.
She moved his hand. “What do you want to show me, anyway?” she said, trying to distract him.
“This,” he said, taking her right hand. A moment later she felt his naked penis, stiff and hot.
“Jesus Christ!” She snatched her hand away. Boy, had she misjudged this one! “Put it away, Steve, and stop acting like a goddamned adolescent!”
The next thing she knew, something struck her a mighty blow on the side of the face.
She screamed and jerked sideways. An air horn blared as her car swung across the next lane of the expressway in front of a Mack truck. The bones of her face burned with agony and she tasted blood. Fighting to ignore the pain, she regained control of the car.
She realized with astonishment that he had punched her.
No one had ever done that.
“You son of a bitch!” she screamed.
“Now give me a hand job,” he said. “Otherwise I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
“Fuck you!” she yelled.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him draw back his fist for another blow.
Without thinking, she stepped on the brake.