Life Blood---XXVI---Page No 96

Kevin and Rachel—they all looked alike because they all were

from the same woman. The one who was here before Sarah. And now hers were ready.

I was going to be next. The new "bride." Those fresh petri dishes down in the lab . . . My God, why didn't I destroy them when I had the chance?

So whose sperm would he use? Of course. It would be from
the man Alan Dupre was going to deliver to him.
        "Marcelina, don't you realize what's happening?" I wanted to
pound some sense into her. They didn't have to let him do this to
them.

"I know that with miracles must come sadness," she said,
reaching to touch Tz'ac Tzotz's tiny brow. "We all understand
that."

"It's not a miracle. It's science, don't you realize? Ciencia. He's using you."

"We know he does many things that are magic. He makes powerful medicines from the plants we bring him, and when women want to bear a child—"

"No, Marcelina." I felt my heart go out to her, and to all the

others. "It's black magic. It's all a lie."

The first thing to do was go down to the laboratory and dump every last one of my petri dishes into the sink, ova and all.
Destroy the nest, then call Steve and warn him. . .
        I glanced at my watch. NO! The time was 4:58 A.M. He was
coming at nine o'clock last night. . .

I was standing there in horror, unnatural colors flitting across my vision, when I heard . . .

"It's almost morning."

I jumped as Alex Goddard walked into the room, dressed in
white, hair falling around his shoulders. He took Tz'ac Tzotz from
his crib, checked the number on his amulet, and then absently put
him back. Next he examined me, his eyes brimming with concern.

"How're you feeling?" He placed his hand on my brow. When I
looked around for Marcelina, I realized she'd vanished.
        "Where's Steve?" I felt the bottom dropping out of my world,
my whole body trembling. "If you've harmed so much as a hair on
his head, I'll—"

"He's here," he said quietly.

"I want to see him." Dear God, what had I done? I wanted to

die.

"He's been given something to help him rest. Are you sure you want to disturb him?"

"I told you I want to see him." I could barely get out the words.
"Now."

"If you insist. He's just downstairs."

We slowly walked down the marble steps, my mind flooding
with more and more hallucinations. When we reached the first
floor, he opened the door of a room adjacent to his office. I
realized the window slats were open, sending a rush of moist air
across my face. Then he motioned me forward and clicked on the
bedside light.

Steve was there on the bed, comatose. I walked over and lifted his upper torso, then cradled his head in my arms. Baby, I love you. Please forgive me. Please.

His eyes were firmly shut and he didn't stir in the slightest. He was in a deathlike stupor, and there were large bruises on his face and a bandage across his nose. Then his bed shift fell open and I noticed another bandage on his groin.

"You've already done it!" I whirled back, ready to kill the
bastard.

"As I said, he was injected with a mild sedative." He had

walked over and started taking Steve's pulse. "Given the . . .

condition he was in, I decided to go with the simplest procedure possible. After he was brought in, I made a small incision in the vas deferens and extracted a substantial quantity of motile
sperm." He was turning down the lights. "Don't worry. I've
performed the procedure before. The last was a Swedish tourist who was in a car accident up by Lake Atitlan and then lay in a coma in Guatemala City for weeks on end."

I listened to him, my mind racing. I'd thought Kevin and Rachel looked Nordic, big and blond. That Swede must have been their father.

"Those ova of mine you took, the way you stole Sarah's, and
all the other women you've brought here—you don't use them for
research."

"I have ample leftover embryonic material here for that." He started helping me onto the bed next to Steve. Now his face was undulating through my vision, as though I were seeing it in a wavy mirror. "Please understand, it's very expensive to run a laboratory up here. But the good I'm doing—"

"You're a criminal." I remembered the frightened eyes of the women upstairs and felt myself seething with anger.