Робин Кук - Vital Signs

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Робин Кук - Vital Signs» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Город: New York, Год выпуска: 1991, ISBN: 1991, Издательство: Putman, Жанр: thriller_medical, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

Vital Signs: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Where life begins, terror lurks... Only Robin Cook, acknowledged master of the techno-medical thriller, could have written this supremely chilling novel about the passion to create life — and the power to destroy it.?
Millions of readers met crusading epidemiologist Marissa Blumenthal in the pages of the bestselling Outbreak. Now Robin Cook brings back his feisty heroine in a gripping new tale, Vital Signs — a roller-coaster ride into the unexpected and the utterly unconscionable.
In the eyes of her envious peers, Marissa has it all: a superb professional reputation, a flourishing pediatrics practice, even a fairytale marriage with the man of her dreams — Robert Buchanan, an entrepreneur involved in health-care administration and research.
But there is one thing Marissa does not have: the child she desperately desires. And when tests confirm that her sealed fallopian tubes have rendered her infertile, her perfect world begins to crumble. Obsessed with becoming pregnant, Marissa barely even notices the disastrous effect her idee fixe is having on her marriage and career.
When a little medical sleuthing points to suspicious origins of her infertility, Marissa boldly challenges the law. Along with Wendy, a new friend with a similar infertility problem, she breaks into a fertility clinic, travels to Australia, a center of in-vitro fertilization, then on to Hong Kong.
The two women’s exploration of the brave new world of reproductive technologies takes a shocking turn when Wendy is violently killed — and Marissa’s own life is mysteriously threatened. But personal danger does not deter her, and she allows herself to be drawn into the dark vortex of the baby-making business, where a woman’s dearest dream turns slowly, agonizingly to dread...
Timely, top-notch suspense that will grip the reader from the very first page, Vital Signs proves once again the unique and compelling genius of Robin Cook.

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“Since it is a national problem here in the United States,” Cyrill said, “the FBI will have to be involved.”

“Undoubtedly,” Marissa agreed. “And thank God for it, because I’m certain Tristan and I are going to need some protection for a time. We may even have to hide away someplace. I’m afraid that the Wing Sin has a global reach.”

Cyrill got to his feet. “I’m going to run upstairs,” he said. “I want to see if I can catch the director before he leaves for the day. Would you two mind waiting here for a moment?”

After Cyrill left, Marissa faced Tristan. “What do you think?” she asked. “Honestly?”

“Honestly?” Tristan repeated. “I think you’re a spunky, knackered battler.”

“Please, Tristan,” Marissa said. “I’m serious. Cut the Aussie babble and speak English.”

“I’m being serious too,” Tristan said. “I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re exhausted. And I think you are amazing. In fact, you’re a little intimidating. And on top of all that, I think you are right. And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather go into hiding with than you.”

Epilogue

November 22, 1990

11:55 A.M

“What’s that street sign over there?” Tristan asked, pointing in front of Marissa, who was sitting in the passenger seat of a Hertz rent-a-car.

“I don’t know!” Marissa sighed in exasperation. “I can’t see it unless you pull ahead of this tree next to us.”

“Right you are, luv,” Tristan said. He pulled the car ahead about a foot.

“Cherry Lane,” Marissa read.

“Cherry Lane?” Tristan questioned. He bent over the map he’d drawn. “I can’t figure these directions out.”

“Perhaps now we could go back down the hill and ask?” Marissa said. They’d passed a service station a few minutes before.

Tristan’s head shot up. “Listen,” he said, “I can find the damn house, okay?”

For a moment the two glared at each other. Then they both broke into easy laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Tristan said. “I suppose I’m a touch tense. Didn’t mean to snap.”

“I didn’t mean to either,” Marissa said. “I think we’re both under a bit of strain.”

“That’s an understatement,” Tristan said. “I don’t even know if Chauncey will recognize me. It’s been over three years.”

“But he’s six,” Marissa said. “I think he’ll recognize you. I wonder what he will think of me.”

“He’s going to love you,” Tristan said. “Mark my words.”

“If we ever get there,” Marissa said.

“Have faith,” Tristan said. He looked back at his map. “If we could only find this Connolly Avenue.”

“We just passed that,” Marissa said. “I’m pretty sure that was the last street we went by.”

“Then we’ll just have to chuck a u-ey,” Tristan said as he pulled the steering wheel all the way to the left. “It’s always a bit confusing since you folks drive on the wrong side of the road.”

Going back a block, they found Connolly Avenue. Connolly Avenue fed into Green Street. Within fifteen minutes they were parked in front of a white clapboard house with Victorian trim. On the front lawn was a sign that said: OLAFSONS.

“Well, here we are,” Tristan said. He gazed up at the house.

“Yup,” Marissa agreed. “We made it.”

Neither moved to get out of the car.

Marissa was particularly nervous. The Olafsons, Tristan’s in-laws, had been caring for Tristan’s son, Chauncey, for the past three years. Marissa had never met them and had never seen Chauncey. While Marissa and Tristan had been hiding out under the auspices of the FBI, it had been deemed unwise for them to meet until now, Thanksgiving day.

The months since their return from the Orient had passed slowly. The government had placed them in Montana, where they shared a house in a small town. Neither of them were permitted to work as physicians.

At first it had been very difficult for Marissa. It took her a long time to adjust to Robert’s death. She felt responsible for it for a long time. That he had died when they were still on such bad terms only added to her pain.

Tristan helped a lot. To a degree, he’d been through the same thing. It gave him a special empathy. He’d known when to talk with her and when to leave her alone.

On top of Robert’s death, she had to contend with Wendy’s. It had taken months before the nightmares of the sharks had stopped their nightly visit. She felt responsible for her friend’s death as well.

Ultimately, time had been the great healer, as it was said to be. Gradually Marissa had begun to feel more like herself. She even started back to her usual exercise routine of jogging several miles a day. Losing the weight she’d gained through the fertility treatments proved a boost to her morale.

“I guess we’d better go inside,” Tristan said. But no sooner had he voiced the words than the front door to the house opened, and out stepped a couple with a child.

Tristan got out of the car. Marissa did the same. They slammed their doors shut. For a moment, no one said anything or moved.

Marissa looked at the child. She could see signs of Tristan in his hair and the shape of his little face. Next she looked to the couple. They were younger than Marissa had anticipated. The man was tall and slight, his features sharp. The woman was short. Her bobbed hair had a sprinkling of gray. She was clutching a tissue. Marissa realized that she was crying.

The introductions were awkward, especially with Elaine Olaf-son struggling through tears. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “But seeing Tristan brings back the pain of losing Eva. And we have gotten so attached to Chauncey.”

For the moment, Chauncey was holding on to Elaine’s leg. His eyes darted from Marissa to his father.

Marissa couldn’t help but sympathize with Elaine. The woman had lost her only child and was now about to lose the grandson she had been caring for for three years.

As they entered the house, Marissa smelled the wonderful aroma of a roasting turkey. She had always loved Thanksgiving. Her memories of Thanksgiving dinners in Virginia were warm and wonderful. It had always been a comfortable, secure time.

Tristan and Eric soon retired to the den to watch football, cans of beer in hand. Marissa and Elaine went into the kitchen. After some initial shyness, Chauncey attempted to straddle both rooms, moving back and forth from the kitchen to the den every few minutes. Tristan had decided not to force anything. He wanted Chauncey to have the chance to get used to him.

“Put me to work,” Marissa told Elaine. She knew for a dinner like this there would be much to do.

Elaine told Marissa to relax, but Marissa insisted. Soon she found herself rinsing the salad greens. They chatted about the journey that morning from Butte, Montana, to San Francisco. But as Elaine calmed, they moved to more personal issues.

“Tristan told Eric on the phone that you and he are planning to be married?” Elaine said.

“That’s the current plan,” Marissa said. It was hard for her to believe it herself. Only months previously she never would have imagined that she’d be capable of such a major step. But the transition from friendship to romance had started slowly. It had grown steadily through their months in hiding. Then, to Marissa’s surprise, their budding romance had flowered with sudden and intense passion.

“And you are going to adopt Chauncey?” Elaine asked. She opened the oven and basted the turkey.

“Yes,” Marissa said. She watched Elaine, waiting for the woman to look at her. “I know this is very difficult for you,” Marissa said. “I can imagine how much you will miss the boy. But there is something you should know. Tristan and I plan to move here to Berkeley so that Chauncey won’t have to change schools. But also so that he will be nearby. You and Eric will see him as often as you like. We know the change will be as difficult for Chauncey as it will be for you. We want to do the most we can to make it easier.”

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