Robin Cook - Shock

Spencer recovered rapidly. He smiled with relief when he recognized the women, then waved for them to join him as he bent down to right his desk chair.

The women started for the room. Both were acutely sensitive to Spencer's reaction to their presence, which so far was auspicious. His initial fear had changed to surprise with a hint of reassuring delight. As they approached, he slicked back his silvered hair and adjusted his velvet smoking jacket. But as the women came into the light his expression changed to puzzlement.

"What happened to you two?" Before the women could respond he asked: "How did you get in here?"

Joanna started to explain about coming in through the basement while Deborah launched into a capsule of their evening.

Spencer raised his hands. "Hold up! One at a time. But first, do either of you need anything? You look terrible."

For the first time since the ordeal started, the women looked at themselves and at each other. Their appearance brought expressions of embarrassment to their faces. Deborah had fared the worst with her minidress torn and tattered and abrasions on her thighs and shins from the lip of the iron lung. One of her dangling earrings was gone and her tiny heart necklace had lost all its rhinestones. Her hands were black from the elevator cable grease, and her hair was a tangled mess.

Joanna still had on the doctor's coat, which had protected her clothes to a large degree. But the coat itself was a soiled mess, particularly from crawling prostrate on the barn floor. A few stalks of hay protruded from the pockets.

Deborah and Joanna then exchanged one of their knowing glances. The combination of their appearances and anxieties brought forth a fit of laughter which took them by surprise and a moment to recover. Even Spencer found himself smiling.

"I wish I knew exactly what you women are laughing at," Spencer said.

"It's a combination," Deborah managed. "But probably mostly tension."

"I think it's mostly relief," Joanna said. "We were hoping you'd be here and unsure if you'd mind if we dropped by."

"I'm pleased you came by," Spencer said. "What can I get you?"

"Now that you ask, I could use a blanket," Deborah said. "I'm freezing."

"How about some hot coffee?" Spencer said. "I could make it for you in a moment. Even something stronger if you'd like. I could also get you a sweater or a sweatshirt."

"Actually we'd like to talk right away,' Joanna said. "There's some urgency involved here." She laughed nervously again.

"This blanket right here will do," Deborah said. She picked up a tartan throw from a velvet couch and tossed it around her shoulders.

"Well, sit down," Spencer said. He gestured toward the couch.

The women sat. Spencer grabbed his desk chair and pulled it over. He sat across from them.

"What's the urgency?" Spencer asked. He leaned forward, glancing from one woman to the other.

The women looked at each other.

"Do you want to talk, or do you want me to?" Deborah said.

"I don't care," Joanna responded. "It doesn't really matter."

"I don't care either," Deborah said.

"Of course you know the biology better than I," Joanna said.

"True, but you can explain about the computer files better."

"Wait, wait, wait]" Spencer said, holding up his hands. "It doesn't matter who does the talking. Someone start."

Deborah pointed to herself, and Joanna nodded.

"Okay," Deborah said. She looked Spencer in the eye. "Do you remember last night when I asked you about the pregnant Nicaraguan ladies?"

"I do," Spencer said. Then he laughed self-consciously. "I might not remember too much else about last night, but I remember that."

"Well, we think we know why they are pregnant," Deborah said. "We think it's to produce eggs."

Spencer's face clouded. "They're pregnant to produce eggs? I think you have to explain."

Deborah took in a lungful of air and gave her explanation. Following that explanation which she admitted was supposition, she went on to say that the Wingate Clinic was definitely obtaining eggs by an even more unethical and even unlawful manner. She explained that the clinic was removing, without consent, the entire ovaries of unsuspecting women who thought they were only donating a few eggs. Finally Deborah said that at least two women had been murdered because both ovaries had been obtained, and the women had never been seen again.

Spencer's mouth had slowly dropped open during Deborah’s monologue. When she finished, he sat back, clearly horrified by what he'd heard.

"How did you learn all this?" he asked with a raspy voice. His throat had gone dry. Before either woman could respond, he added: "I have to get a drink. Can I get anything for anyone else?"

Both Deborah and Joanna shook their heads.

Spencer stood up on mildly unsteady legs and got himself over to a built-in liquor cabinet. He opened it and poured himself a splash of neat scotch. He tossed off a portion of it before returning to his chair. The women watched him intently and noted the tremor in the hand holding the tumbler.

"We're sorry to have to tell you all this," Joanna said, speaking up for the first time. "As the founder of this clinic to help infertile couples, it must be disturbing to hear what has been going on."

" 'Disturbing' is putting it mildly," Spencer said. "You have to understand that this clinic has been the culmination of my life's work."

"Unfortunately there's more you should know," Deborah said. She went on to describe the cloning and how once again unsuspecting women were being exploited. Then she told in graphic detail about the chimeric infants being gestated in pigs in the farm which she and Joanna had just discovered. After this final piece of shocking information, Deborah fell silent.

The women watched Spencer. He was clearly distraught, running his fingers repeatedly through his hair and unable for a time to make eye contact. He polished off the last of his scotch in a single toss and winced.

"I appreciate your coming to me," Spencer managed. "Thank you."

"Our motivation wasn't entirely altruistic," Joanna said. "We need your help."

Spencer lifted his face and stared at Joanna. "What can I do?"

"You can get us out of here," Joanna said. "The Wingate Security force is searching for us. They have been chasing us since we managed to get into the egg room. They have a pretty good idea what we know."

"You want me to get you off the premises," Spencer said.

"Exactly," Joanna answered. "We've got to get out through the gate."

"That won't be difficult," Spencer said. "We'll drive out in the Bentley."

"We want to make sure you understand exactly how much they want to catch us," Deborah said. "I mean, this is a very serious situation. We cannot be seen. I'm sure they'd stop even you if they suspected."

"I imagine you are right," Spencer said. "To make sure there will be no problem, you two can squeeze into the trunk. It's not going to be comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, but it would only be for about five minutes, or ten at the most."

Joanna looked at Deborah. Deborah nodded. "I've always wanted to ride in a Bentley; I suppose the trunk will do."

Joanna rolled her eyes. She couldn't understand Deborah's motivation for joking at that point. "I could deal with being in the trunk. In fact, under the circumstances I'd probably feel safer in the trunk."

"When do you want to do it?" Spencer asked. "Sooner is probably better than later. I've been known to go out for late drives on occasion, but anything after two A.M. would be suspicious."

"I'm all for sooner," Joanna said.

"I'm ready right now," Deborah added.

"Let's go," Spencer said. He slapped his thighs as he got up.

Spencer led the women back through the kitchen where he picked up his car keys off the countertop before entering the garage. He went directly behind the Bentley and keyed open the trunk.