[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Catherine chewed her lip. "Well, it didn't register electronically.''
He shrugged. "Then maybe we've got activity going on outside the net."
On cue, number nine began banging on the inside of his box.
Donald jumped and swore, but Catherine looked suddenly stricken.
"Oh, no! I promised him he wouldn't have to spend more time in there than absolutely necessary to
maintain the integrity of the experiment."
Watching her hurry across the lab, Donald fished a candy from his pocket and methodically unwrapped
it.
Now that's a person who doesn't get out enough.
Usually, Dr. Burke considered the sound of her footsteps, leather soles slapping against tile, nothing
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file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruiswijk/Mijn%20d...a%20Huff%20-%20Victoria%20Nelson%20-%2004%20-%20Blood%20Pact.txt
more than background noise, acknowledged then forgotten. Today, the sound chased her through the
empty halls of the old Life Sciences building, across the connecting walkway, and up into the sanctuary
of her office. Even tucked into the comforting depths of her old wooden chair, she thought she could still
hear the echoing trail she'd left. After a moment, she realized she was listening to the rapid pounding of
her heart.
You're being ridiculous, she told herself firmly, palms flat on the desk. Take a deep breath and stop
overreacting.
Marjory Nelson's heart condition, not to mention her accessibility, had made her the perfect candidate
for the next phase of the experiment. Brain waves had been recorded, tissue samples has been taken,
bacteria had been specifically tailored to her DNA-all in preparation for her death. Or rather for the
attempted reversal of it. Marjory, knowing nothing of what they'd been doing, submitted to the tests
she'd been told might help, and died right on schedule.
Right on schedule. A second deep breath followed the first. It was fast and painless when it otherwise
might not have been. Not to mention that her presence at the collapse had ensured they wouldn't have to
worry about the tissue destruction inherent in an autopsy.
Squaring her shoulders, Dr. Burke pulled the morning's mail across the desk. They were reversing death.
Catherine might have created the bacteria, but without her involvement this application would still be
years, if not decades, in the future. She had made possible the logical progression of Catherine's
experiments and she would reap the rewards.
If recognition had flashed just for that instant in Marjory's eyes, then they trembled on the brink of
success long before empirical data suggested they should.
If recognition had occurred then . . .
Then what?
Marjory Nelson is dead and I'm truly sorry about that. She was an essential member of my staff and I'll
miss her. With a deft movement, Dr. Burke slid the letter opener the length of the envelope. The body in
the lab is experimental unit number ten. Nothing more.
"I already spoke to the police about this, Ms. Nelson." Nervously, Christy Aloman shuffled the papers
on her desk. "I don't know if I should be speaking to you."
"Did the police tell you not to speak to anyone else?"
"No, but . . ."
"You have to admit, if anyone has a right to know, it's me." Vicki felt the pencil dig deep into the callus
on her second finger and forced her hand to relax.
"Yes, but . . ."
"My mother's body was stolen from these premises."
"I know, but ..."
"I should think you'd want to do what you could to help."
"I do. Truly I do." She made the mistake of looking at Vicki's face and found she couldn't look away.
Gray-blue eyes were like chiseled bits of frozen stone and she felt as she had when, so many winters
ago, she'd responded to childish dares and touched the metal gatepost with her tongue-foolish and
trapped.
"Then tell me everything you can remember about Tom Chen. How he looked. What he wore. How he
acted. What he said. What you overheard."
"Everything?" It was complete surrender and they both knew it.
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"Everything."
"I don't suppose you ever wore anything like this when you were alive." Catherine pulled the Queen's
University sweatpants up over number nine's hips. Grayish skin glistened with the most recent
application of estrogen cream. "I mean all things considered, you were in pretty good shape, but you
didn't look like a jock. Sit."
Number nine obediently sat.
"Raise your arms. Higher."
A bit of agar oozed out between incision staples over the sternum as number nine's arms lifted into the
air.
Catherine ignored it and tugged a matching sweatshirt down over the arms and head. "There you go. A
pair of shoes and you're fit for polite company."
"Cathy, I hate to say this, but you're looney tunes." Donald pushed away from the microscope and
rubbed his eyes. "You're talking to an animatronic corpse. It doesn't understand you."
"I think he does." She slid one bony foot into a running shoe, pressing the velcro closed. "And if maybe
he doesn't understand all of it now, he'll never learn to understand if we don't talk to him."
"I know. I know. Necessary stimulus. But we're not getting anything back-brain wave wise-that we
haven't put in. Granted," he held up a hand to cut off her protest, "we're getting some evidence of
interfacing with gross motor skills. You don't need to give every muscle fiber a separate instruction and
that's fucking amazing, but face it," he tapped his head, "there's nothing upstairs. The tenant is gone."
Catherine snorted and patted number nine reassur-
ingly on the shoulder. "Great bedside manner. I can see why you got kicked out of med school."
"I didn't get kicked out." Donald set another slide under the microscope lens. "I made a lateral move into
graduate studies in organic chemistry.''
"Not an entirely voluntary move from what I heard. I heard Dr. Burke had to save your ass."
"Catherine!" Miming shock and horror, Donald spread both hands wide. "I didn't know you knew such
words." He shook his head and grinned. "You've spent too much time with single-celled orgasms ..."
"Organisms!"
"... you need to get a life." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
Catherine chewed her lip. "Well, it didn't register electronically.''
He shrugged. "Then maybe we've got activity going on outside the net."
On cue, number nine began banging on the inside of his box.
Donald jumped and swore, but Catherine looked suddenly stricken.
"Oh, no! I promised him he wouldn't have to spend more time in there than absolutely necessary to
maintain the integrity of the experiment."
Watching her hurry across the lab, Donald fished a candy from his pocket and methodically unwrapped
it.
Now that's a person who doesn't get out enough.
Usually, Dr. Burke considered the sound of her footsteps, leather soles slapping against tile, nothing
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...20Victoria%20Nelson%20-%2004%20-%20Blood%20Pact.txt (43 of 167)23-2-2006 23:10:32
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruiswijk/Mijn%20d...a%20Huff%20-%20Victoria%20Nelson%20-%2004%20-%20Blood%20Pact.txt
more than background noise, acknowledged then forgotten. Today, the sound chased her through the
empty halls of the old Life Sciences building, across the connecting walkway, and up into the sanctuary
of her office. Even tucked into the comforting depths of her old wooden chair, she thought she could still
hear the echoing trail she'd left. After a moment, she realized she was listening to the rapid pounding of
her heart.
You're being ridiculous, she told herself firmly, palms flat on the desk. Take a deep breath and stop
overreacting.
Marjory Nelson's heart condition, not to mention her accessibility, had made her the perfect candidate
for the next phase of the experiment. Brain waves had been recorded, tissue samples has been taken,
bacteria had been specifically tailored to her DNA-all in preparation for her death. Or rather for the
attempted reversal of it. Marjory, knowing nothing of what they'd been doing, submitted to the tests
she'd been told might help, and died right on schedule.
Right on schedule. A second deep breath followed the first. It was fast and painless when it otherwise
might not have been. Not to mention that her presence at the collapse had ensured they wouldn't have to
worry about the tissue destruction inherent in an autopsy.
Squaring her shoulders, Dr. Burke pulled the morning's mail across the desk. They were reversing death.
Catherine might have created the bacteria, but without her involvement this application would still be
years, if not decades, in the future. She had made possible the logical progression of Catherine's
experiments and she would reap the rewards.
If recognition had flashed just for that instant in Marjory's eyes, then they trembled on the brink of
success long before empirical data suggested they should.
If recognition had occurred then . . .
Then what?
Marjory Nelson is dead and I'm truly sorry about that. She was an essential member of my staff and I'll
miss her. With a deft movement, Dr. Burke slid the letter opener the length of the envelope. The body in
the lab is experimental unit number ten. Nothing more.
"I already spoke to the police about this, Ms. Nelson." Nervously, Christy Aloman shuffled the papers
on her desk. "I don't know if I should be speaking to you."
"Did the police tell you not to speak to anyone else?"
"No, but . . ."
"You have to admit, if anyone has a right to know, it's me." Vicki felt the pencil dig deep into the callus
on her second finger and forced her hand to relax.
"Yes, but . . ."
"My mother's body was stolen from these premises."
"I know, but ..."
"I should think you'd want to do what you could to help."
"I do. Truly I do." She made the mistake of looking at Vicki's face and found she couldn't look away.
Gray-blue eyes were like chiseled bits of frozen stone and she felt as she had when, so many winters
ago, she'd responded to childish dares and touched the metal gatepost with her tongue-foolish and
trapped.
"Then tell me everything you can remember about Tom Chen. How he looked. What he wore. How he
acted. What he said. What you overheard."
"Everything?" It was complete surrender and they both knew it.
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...20Victoria%20Nelson%20-%2004%20-%20Blood%20Pact.txt (44 of 167)23-2-2006 23:10:32
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruiswijk/Mijn%20d...a%20Huff%20-%20Victoria%20Nelson%20-%2004%20-%20Blood%20Pact.txt
"Everything."
"I don't suppose you ever wore anything like this when you were alive." Catherine pulled the Queen's
University sweatpants up over number nine's hips. Grayish skin glistened with the most recent
application of estrogen cream. "I mean all things considered, you were in pretty good shape, but you
didn't look like a jock. Sit."
Number nine obediently sat.
"Raise your arms. Higher."
A bit of agar oozed out between incision staples over the sternum as number nine's arms lifted into the
air.
Catherine ignored it and tugged a matching sweatshirt down over the arms and head. "There you go. A
pair of shoes and you're fit for polite company."
"Cathy, I hate to say this, but you're looney tunes." Donald pushed away from the microscope and
rubbed his eyes. "You're talking to an animatronic corpse. It doesn't understand you."
"I think he does." She slid one bony foot into a running shoe, pressing the velcro closed. "And if maybe
he doesn't understand all of it now, he'll never learn to understand if we don't talk to him."
"I know. I know. Necessary stimulus. But we're not getting anything back-brain wave wise-that we
haven't put in. Granted," he held up a hand to cut off her protest, "we're getting some evidence of
interfacing with gross motor skills. You don't need to give every muscle fiber a separate instruction and
that's fucking amazing, but face it," he tapped his head, "there's nothing upstairs. The tenant is gone."
Catherine snorted and patted number nine reassur-
ingly on the shoulder. "Great bedside manner. I can see why you got kicked out of med school."
"I didn't get kicked out." Donald set another slide under the microscope lens. "I made a lateral move into
graduate studies in organic chemistry.''
"Not an entirely voluntary move from what I heard. I heard Dr. Burke had to save your ass."
"Catherine!" Miming shock and horror, Donald spread both hands wide. "I didn't know you knew such
words." He shook his head and grinned. "You've spent too much time with single-celled orgasms ..."
"Organisms!"
"... you need to get a life." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]