For a moment the women just took in the spectacle. Although the walls of the room were still exposed brick, the scene was more like what they had expected when they'd first passed through the stainless-steel door. Even the ceiling was higher in this space than in the other rooms due to an absence of the overhead piping and ductwork. The lighting was also less harsh, but with the addition of an apparent ultraviolet component.
While Deborah was transfixed by the vista, Joanna caught Cindy again checking her watch. What made the repeated gesture remarkable to Joanna was the woman's otherwise apparent hospitality. If she were so concerned about the time, as suggested by her constantly looking at her watch, why was she spending so much of it with them? It was a question for which Joanna had no immediate answer, but it progressively bothered her.
"What exactly are we looking at here?" Deborah asked.
"This is the organ room," Cindy explained. "These tanks are constant-temperature water baths. The small floating spheres are to keep the bath water from evaporating. The larger spheres hold the ovaries."
"So," Deborah commented, "you're able to keep entire ovaries alive by, I assume, perfusing them etcetera."
"That's pretty much the story," Cindy said. "We've mimicked their accustomed internal environment with oxygen, nutrients, and endocrine stimulation. Of course removing waste products is also important. At any rate, when we do it right, the ovaries are constantly ovulating mature oocytes."
"Can we see closer?" Deborah asked.
Cindy gestured ahead. "By all means."
Deborah walked down an aisle between two rows of the tanks and stopped to gaze within one of the spheres. The contained ovary was about the size of a flattened walnut with a ragged, pock-marked surface reminiscent of the moon. Tiny perfusion cannulas were connected to the major ovarian vessels. Various sensing wires were attached at other points on the small organ.
"We have more traditional cell cultures of oogonia as well," Cindy said. "I can show you them if you'd like."
"Some of these spheres contain two ovaries rather than one, Deborah said.
"That's true, but most are single, as you can see. How about we move on to the oogonia room?"
"What does it mean when there are two ovaries?" Joanna asked.
"That's Dr. Donaldson's department," Cindy said. "I'm just one of the many technicians who monitor and take care of them."
Joanna and Deborah exchanged one of their signature glances. As familiar as they were with each other, each generally could tell what the other was thinking.
"I see each sphere is labeled alphanumerically," Joanna said. "Does that mean you know the origin of each ovary?"
For the first time during their visit Cindy appeared clearly uncomfortable with the question. She hemmed and hawed and again tried to change the subject back to the oogonia cultures, but Joanna was insistent.
"We have a vague idea of each ovary's origin," Cindy admitted finally.
"What does vague mean?" Joanna persisted. "If I were to give you a name of an ovarian donor, could you locate the ovary?"
"I believe so," Cindy said evasively. She looked at her watch and switched her weight from one foot to the other.
"The name I'm interested in is Joanna Meissner," Joanna said.
"Joanna Meissner," Cindy repeated. She glanced around the area as if unfamiliar where things were located. "We'd need a computer workstation."
"There's one right behind you," Joanna said.
"Oh, indeed!" Cindy said as if surprised. She turned, unlocked the keyboard with her password, then typed in Joanna's name. The screen flashed back "JM699." Cindy scribbled the code on a scrap of paper and then set off. The women followed behind. Two rows over and two tanks down she stopped and pointed. JM699 was written on the glass sphere's surface with an indelible marker.
Both Joanna and Deborah stared in at the small organ. It was significantly more pockmarked than the first one they'd seen, and Joanna asked about it.
"It's one of our older specimens,' Cindy explained. "It's nearing the end of its useful life."
"I have a donor's name," Deborah said. "Kristin Overmeyer."
"Okay," Cindy said agreeably, as if reconciled to the situation. She retraced her steps back to the computer workstation having recovered her previous poise. She typed in the name without hesitation, and the computer immediately produced the code: KO432.
"This way,' Cindy said, waving for the women to follow. She skirted the periphery of the room before turning into the first row. Joanna held Deborah back and whispered: "I know what you are thinking. It's a good thought!"
Deborah merely nodded.
"Here we are," Cindy said almost proudly, stopping at a specific tank. She pointed at the middle glass sphere. "KO432. It's a double specimen."
"Interesting," Deborah said after a quick glance. "The specimen has a lower number than the previous one, but looks younger. How can that be?"
Cindy glanced in at the two ovaries. It was apparent she was flustered again. She stuttered a moment before saying: "That's something I know nothing about. Maybe it has to do with the way the specimens are taken, but I really don't know. I'm sure Dr. Donaldson would be able to explain it."
"I have one more name,' Deborah said. "Rebecca Corey."
"Are you sure you people wouldn't like to see the oogonia cultures?" Cindy asked. "We feel that's the arena where we have made the biggest advances. The oogonia cultures are soon going to make these full ovary cultures passe."
"This is the last name," Deborah promised. "Then we'll move on to the oogonia cultures."
After another check of her watch, Cindy repeated the procedure for getting the code number. She then led them to the tank immediately adjacent to the one containing Kristin Overmeyer's ovaries and pointed at the appropriate sphere. Once again it was a double specimen.
Both Joanna and Deborah peered in at the ovaries which, like Kristin's, appeared younger than Joanna's. Both women trembled with the realization that they were looking at the ovaries of a woman who was supposed to have disappeared along with Kristin Overmeyer after picking up a hitchhiker.
"The oogonia culture room is immediately adjacent," Cindy said. "How about we head over there?"
Joanna and Deborah simultaneously raised their eyes from the ovaries and looked at each other. The horror reflected in their eyes made it instantly apparent they shared the same thoughts. They had uncovered significantly more than they'd envisioned, and it was terrifying as well as horrifying.
"I think we've already taken too much of your time," Joanna said. She gave Cindy a crooked smile.
"It's true," Deborah chimed in. "It's been interesting, but it's time we moved on. Maybe you could point us in the right direction toward the entrance, and we'll get out of your hair."
"I've plenty of time," Cindy said quickly. "It's no problem, trust me] I've enjoyed the break in my routine, and I think you should see the whole setup before you go. Come on! We'll see the oogonia cultures." She tried to take Deborah's arm, but Deborah pulled free.
"We want to leave," Deborah said more emphatically.
"You'll be missing the most significant part,' Cindy said. "I have to insist!"
"Like hell you'll insist!" Deborah spat. "We're outta here!"
"We'll find our own way," Joanna said. She started back the way they'd come. Although she knew it might not be the shortest route from what Cindy had said earlier, she didn't care. At least she'd be passing recognizable landmarks.
"I can't let you wander in here by yourselves," Cindy stated. "It's against the rules." She grabbed Joanna's arm with more force than she'd used with Deborah, pulling Joanna to a stop.