Origin by J.A. Konrath

Author:J.A. Konrath
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2009-04-07T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Pathetic, Dr. Julie Harker thought.

Race had kissed so much demon ass his face was turning brown. The All Important Roosevelt Book had been left on his chair, forgotten. Race and Helen had danced out of Red 14 an hour ago, giggling like teenagers. Probably going to have sex, Harker guessed. The thought sickened her.

Just as sickening was Father Thrist, sucking up to Bub with sycophantic relish. He'd given Bub his precious bible, preaching endlessly about the wonders of Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Harker had been a Christian, once. Her parish priest offered no explanation for her daughter’s death, other than the lame “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

A child’s death wasn’t mysterious. It was reprehensible. Harker wanted no part of any religion that allowed such a thing to happen.

Harker sat patiently outside of the habitat, waiting. She had a question to ask Bub, but she wanted to be alone when she did. It was admittedly a long shot, but it kept Harker rooted to her chair, watching Father Thrist grovel and gesture. Harker passed the time by picking at her cuticles, a habit from her youth. A day didn't go by where she didn't draw some blood from one or two fingers, cutting down too deep.

After an interminable wait, the priest left. Running off to call the Pope, Harker guessed. The only two remaining in Red 14 were herself and that flake Dr. Belgium. Belgium was busy at the computer, engrossed in some gene program. Harker decided to chance being overheard, and she approached the habitat slowly.

“Dr. Haaaaarker. Are you maaaaaaaad?”

“Mad? Why?”

“I heeeeeeealed Helen. You could noooooot.”

“I haven't examined her yet, so I can't be sure the Huntington's is actually gone.”

“You have dooooooubt.”

“No. I just prefer facts to faith.”

The demon nodded. Harker eyed him, hoof to horn. He was certainly formidable. But supernatural? Harker decided she didn’t care, one way or the other.

“So you can raise the dead?” she asked.

“Yesssssssss.”

“How long can they be dead before you can raise them? Minutes, hours... years?”

“Houuuuuurs.”

Harker frowned. She'd been harboring a minor fantasy of digging up her beloved Shirley and bringing her to Bub. It was ridiculous, she knew. But better to ask than always wonder.

“Who diiiiiied?”

“Excuse me?”

“You want me to bring someone baaaaaaaack.”

Harker's eyes began to glaze and her lower lip quivered. She couldn’t help it. The pain never went away.

“I lost a child,” Harker said.

Bub grinned. His grin was like opening a drawer full of steak knives.

“I can maaaaaaake a child.”

Harker blinked. “What?”

“A chiiiiild. I can maaaaaaaake one.”

“A newborn?”

“Any aaaaaaaaage.”

That would be perfect! All these years, without hope of ever holding a baby again...

“How?” Harker asked.

“A sheeeeeeeeeep.”

Harker frowned.

“You can make a baby out of a sheep?”

“I can change the geeeeeeeeenes. Make it huuuuuman.”

“I'd like to see,” Harker said.

“I neeeeed your help.”

“How?”

The demon leaned closer to the Plexiglas and lowered his voice.

“We shouldn’t beeeeeeee here,” Bub said.

Harker furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“In Samhaaaaaaain. You and I are trapped heeeeeere.”

No kidding, Harker thought.

“So what do you want?”

“To get oooooooout.”

Harker shook her head.

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