Minutes to Burn

Gorged with fruit, the wicker cornucopia seemed to stare back at Cameron and Justin from its perch on the table in the waiting room. The glass tabletop had broken in a recent tremor; it had been replaced temporarily by a piece of plywood. Next to them, a new mother bounced her baby on her knee, its little hands opening and closing, grab-bing at nothing. The baby hiccuped and giggled as the mother leaned forward. They rubbed noses.

Justin held Cameron's hand as they waited side by side, his shoulder bandage bulky under his shirt. Cameron shifted a little in the chair, ignoring the pain in her hip. Toying with her necklace absentmindedly, she noticed that the clasp had worked its way around to the front. Justin extended his hand, wiggling his fingers and flexing, testing out his muscles. The reconstructive surgeries had restored to him full control of his arm. Using cutting-edge technology, the doctors had even managed to repair the plexus of nerves that ran down the arm.

Fiddling her wedding ring on her finger with her thumb, she gazed blankly at a Child magazine sitting under the curved brass reading lamp. On the cover, a pudgy, grinning boy of about two sat with his legs kicked wide out in front of him. He smiled proudly at the tower of colorful blocks he had stacked between his legs.

Despite her apprehension, Cameron forced herself to stare at the dark, solid door to the right. The door without a peephole. She thought of the choice before her should the fetus turn out to be healthy. When she turned back to the yellow door, she felt better, almost empowered.

The Darwin virus had not appeared in her or Justin's bloodstream, and Rex, Diego, and Ramoncito had been cleared as well. Because Cameron was pregnant, Samantha had asked that she have a full workup six weeks after the end of the mission, including a prenatal intake, chori-onic villus sampling, and a set of ultrasounds. The results awaited.

Diego had returned to Sangre de Dios, further sanitizing everything that had been in contact with the virus-the specimen freezer, the ves-tiges of the two camps, the areas where the mantids and larvae had been burned. He'd also set three more GPS units, finally completing the net-work.

Next to Cameron, the mother whispered lovingly to the baby as she burped him. Evidently he had spit up, because she dabbed at her blouse with a little white towel. The towel was decorated with cabooses.

Some footsteps sounded down the corridor, shoes clicking on tile.

The mother gazed at the cheerful yellow door ahead, then turned a kind smile to Cameron.

"So exciting, isn't it?" she asked.

Cameron looked at her, expressionless.

The door swung open, and the stocky Italian nurse filled the doorway, hunched slightly at the shoulders. The rings under her eyes looked dark, even darker than Cameron had remembered. Her hair stood out in graying wisps.

"Kates," the nurse said, her teeth discolored and crooked. "Cameron Kates. Your results are in. The doctor would like to discuss them with you."

Cameron felt Justin squeeze her neck reassuringly. She rose calmly. Justin kept his hand on her back to steady her as they followed the nurse back.

The room was small and claustrophobic. Cameron slowly undressed, put on the gown, and slid up onto the exam table, crinkling the paper. A small notch of a scar crested her deltoid where her transmitter had been removed.

When she heard the doorknob turn, Cameron felt panic spreading through her, but she fought to quell it. Dr. Birnbaum entered, a bearded man with kind blue eyes. He glanced down at a chart, scratching his cheek with a pen. Cameron and Justin stared at him, eyes wide, too nervous to speak.

"I just got off the phone with Dr. Everett at the NIH," he said. "And together we concluded that your results are totally normal. It looks like you have a healthy baby on your hands." His smile lessened when he looked at Cameron. "Should you elect to keep it."

Cameron had thought she'd feel nothing, so she was completely unprepared for the wave of emotion that swept through her. Her mind danced across a landscape of memories, spinning with images. She thought of the larva, bucking and squealing and dying. She thought of the gnarled little creature on the floor of the Estradas' house. She thought of Derek and Jacqueline and their baby girl. She thought of all the frightful things she had seen-so many reasons to be afraid, so many reasons to pull back into herself where everything was neat and safe.

"Baby?" Justin was asking. "Do you want to? Do you think you're ready?" His eyes were as soft as they'd ever been-brave yet intensely vulnerable.

She could barely hear him because she was so far down in herself, swimming in fear and excitement and sheer elation. The answer was there like a bright beam of light, and with it came tears, hard and unremitting. She was pressing her face against his chest, weeping with joy, and from somewhere far away she heard herself saying yes over and over like a prayer.

Chapter 78