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.
The women were surprised at the small size.
"It's because of the storage for the automatic convertible top, Spencer explained.
Deborah scratched her head. "I guess we'll have to spoon."
Joanna nodded. "You're biggest, so you get in first."
"Thanks a lot," Deborah said. She climbed in headfirst and rolled onto her side. Joanna followed suit bending her body to fit in against Deborah's. Spencer slowly closed the lid to make sure there was no problem with arms and knees, and then raised it again.
"It's actually more comfortable than the iron lung," Deborah commented.
"What iron lung?" Spencer asked.
"That's another story," Deborah said. "Let's get this current chapter over with."
"All right, let's go!" Spencer said. "Now don't panic. I'll stop and let you out as soon as it's reasonable. Okay?"
"Button it up!" Deborah said cheerfully, trying to make the best of a bad situation.
The trunk lid came down with a thud and an expensive-sounding click. Once again the women were thrust into darkness. The next thing they heard was the garage door retracting, followed by the car engine starting.
"I guess we should have thought about coming to Spencer earlier," Deborah said. "We could have saved ourselves some grief."
The women felt the car back out of the garage, do a three-point turn, and then motor down the driveway to the street.
"This is an ignominious way to be leaving this place," Joanna said.
"At least we're leaving."
"I felt rather bad for the good doctor," Joanna said after they'd driven for a while.
"What we told him certainly took him by surprise."
They drove in silence for the next few minutes while the women tried to guess where they were. Eventually they felt the car come to a stop with the engine still going.
"We must be at the gate," Deborah said.
"Shush!" Joanna said.
The trunk lid was so well insulated that the women couldn't hear anything until the engine revved again, and even then it was more vibration than noise. After they'd driven a short distance they could tell they were on gravel. A few minutes later the car stopped again, only this time the engine was turned off.
"You'd think he would have driven a bit farther away from the gatehouse," Joanna said.
"I was thinking the same thing," Deborah said. "But hell, at least we're outside the gate, so we might as well ride in style."
They heard the welcome sound of the key in the trunk lock, followed by a popping-up of the trunk cover. Joanna and Deborah looked up, and their hearts leaped in their chests. Spencer was nowhere to be seen. Instead they were looking up into the sneering faces of the Wingate security chief and his henchman.
EPILOGUE
SPENCER LOOKED OUT FROM his office window at the expansive, verdant lawn. Beyond were the spire of Bookford's church and a handful of chimneys sticking up through the budding trees. It was a pleasant sight, and it helped to a degree to calm his roiling emotions. He couldn't remember the last time he was quite so overwrought. To make it worse, he'd not slept in more than twenty-four hours and was still recovering from his recent alcoholic debauchery.
Spencer cleared his throat. "What concerns me is not just what the women knew, but how they found out." Spencer turned from the window and faced Paul Saunders and Sheila Donaldson, who were calmly sitting in armchairs in front of his desk. "I mean, I was blown away when those two women showed up inside my house, especially since you supposedly had a small army looking for them. If that doesn't smack of incompetence, I don't know what does. But more important, if those two could find out in one day everything that you people have been doing around here, so could someone else."
"Spencer, calm down," Paul urged. "Everything is under control."
" 'Under control,' " Spencer repeated sarcastically. "If this is under control I can't imagine what things would have to be like to be out of control." He returned to his desk chair and sat down heavily.
"We're in full agreement," Paul said calmly. "We know we must find out exactly how the women managed to find out what they did."
"They knew about gestating human clones in pigs," Spencer said. "You didn't tell me about that last night. For chrissake, what's that about anyway?"
"It's to rid us of dependence on the Nicaraguan women," Paul said. "As soon as we've perfected the technique, that will be a major source of new eggs apart from the oogonia cultures."