Meena picked the first car at the first rental agency she reached when she got off the plane in Atlanta. It didn't matter to her how many club miles she had or what type of gas mileage she could get or what kind of car best suited her status. That wasn't important. She knew that what was important was that she create a paper trail so that her parents could find her. Her parents or the authorities, should come to that.
Since Meena had boarded the plane without luggage, she was able to make it to their destination a half hour before Dr. Covington. She pulled into the garage at the Atlanta Medical Towers on 1013 Peachtree, and waited. Several times, she pulled out her cell phone to call her parents, and several times, she put it away. She did not want to worry her parents and her hope was that she'd return before they did. But something told her that they would. It was a parent's job to worry - a job that she would soon assume.
A sudden kick reminded her of that fact as she waited for Dr. Covington.
Startled, Meena slowly placed a hand on her stomach. The scientist in her told her that it was way too soon to feel any sort of movement. It was gas; it was bubbles. It was impossible. The mother in her told her it was true, and it was wonderful.
Her only wish was that she could have shared this moment with her parents.
A sudden movement outside of her body and outside of the car distracted her. She looked to her right to see a small, bright orange glow in a car about five hundred yards away. She saw the same glow five seconds later, and again five seconds after that. There was a figure in the car. She couldn't really make out who it was - there were too many shadows. Mesmerized, she stared at the bright orange glow as it flared again...
...There was a sharp rapping noise on the window to her left. Meena turned sharply to stare into the face of Dr. Covington. She turned on the ignition, and rolled down the window. "There you are," Dr. Covington said, "ready?" "Sure," Meena replied. "Why don't you go get the elevator; I'll be right there."
Meena rolled up the window, and turned off the ignition. As an afterthought, she turned and looked to her right before she got out of the car.
The orange glow, the car, and the person in it had vanished.
The two physicians agreed immediately on one thing: Allison Broadstreet was going to be a terrific mother. The elevator opened to the sounds of giggling children when they reached the fourth floor. The noises grew louder the closer they got to the lab. Not wanting to disturb the doctor, they peered inside. Labs, as a general rule, are normally sterile places; cold, uninviting, clinical and unfriendly. Yet here was a lab that exuded warmth despite an array of whirring machines, Bunsen burners, beakers and petrie dishes. In the center of the melee stood Dr. Broadstreet. Surrounded by children of varying ages, she had just shown them the components needed to make sulfur. A sudden chorus informed the doctors in the hallway that she had succeeded, and the two doctors had to chuckle at the variety of scrunched-up faces and pinched noses in reaction to the smell of rotten eggs. The room broke out in laughter, a hearty wail and guffaw that was led by none other than Dr. Broadstreet herself. Allison Broadstreet caught a glimpse of her visitors in the hallway, and signaled that she would be with them shortly. As she wrapped up her session, the children lined up in rows and got ready to depart.
When the crowd dispersed, Meena could not help but notice that Dr. Broadstreet was noticeably pregnant.
Dr. Broadstreet waited until the last child left the room before she beckoned for Meena and Dr. Covington to come in. "Hi;" she said cheerily, "Welcome. Sorry about the delay..." "It's ok," replied Dr. Covington, "it looked like you had your hands full." "Not really," she replied. "They're a good bunch of kids. I open the lab up for field trips. You know; trying to make science actually seem like fun." "Well, it sounded like you succeeded," Meena replied.
Andrew took care of the introductions. "Dr. Broadstreet, you may remember Dr. M.W. Mulder from the conference; Dr. Mulder, Allison Broadstreet, M.D. She's the woman we've come all this way to see." Dr. Broadstreet grabbed Meena's hand in a firm shake. "Nice to meet you," she said. "I don't mean to be forward, Dr. Mulder - we barely know each other, but.... Well, it's obvious you're expecting." Meena nodded her head in agreement. "You don't waste any time, do you?" Meena replied. "Your first?" asked Dr. Broadstreet. Meena nodded. "Mine too," replied Dr. Broadstreet. "And that's where the mystery begins. But I suppose you already know that."
"I'm not following you," Meena replied. Dr. Broadstreet began to tidy up the lab from her command science show. "Truth is, " she began, "I really don't know how I got this way. Don't get me wrong. If I may be blunt, I'm no 'nun in a cloister.' but even if I had a list of men as long as my arm, it wouldn't make any difference. This baby," she said as she rested her hand on her stomach, "this is an impossibility in every sense of the word." "Not that I'm asking you to go into specifics," Andrew began, but Dr. Broadstreet finished his thoughts. "No, I'm not seeing anybody. Haven't been for six months. And it is medically impossible for me to conceive." "And you're absolutely certain of this?" asked Meena. Allison pulled up a stool, and offered a seat to both of her guests. "Yes. I've had all the tests and seen all the specialists. Endometriosis. Too much scaring. All the medical advances in the world can't help if you act too late." "So how can you explain your current state?" Andrew asked. "I can't." "Then we're back to where we started. Perhaps there isn't an answer, and we should end this conversation right now," Meena replied. "I'm not willing to accept that," Allison replied. "What I really think we should do is start with what we know. Now," Allison began, " I've taken a look at all of my prenatal tests. As I'm certain has happened in your case, all of them have come back indicating you are further along that you think. Pretty interesting if three weeks ago, you weren't pregnant, and now they're saying you're six, seven or more weeks along." "We all know that tests are not always conclusive, " Andrew replied. "Mistakes can be made in the lab; test results can get mixed up..."
Allison opened the file in front of her, and turned it to face the two doctors. Meena picked up a small, black and white photo. "An ultrasound.." She began. "Technically, it should be too early for any type of definitive results to show up in an ultrasound," Andrew said. Meena picked up the ultrasound report. "one fetal ultrasound," it read, "fetus approximately six to twelve weeks. Ultrasound normal." Meena looked at the record at the bottom edge of the photo.
"Broadstreet, Allison," it read. It was dated two days prior to their arrival.
"I didn't tell the technician how far along I thought I was," Allison continued. "In the same folder, you'll see the records for my annual check-up, taken four weeks ago. It was a complete work-up." Andrew read the report. "There's no mention of a pregnancy."
Andrew handed the file to Meena. "You're right," she replied. "Clean bill of health, no mention of pregnancy." "At least not to the extent I am now," Allison replied.
Allison stopped a minute and looked the two doctors. She focused special attention on Meena. "There is no doubt something happened to us during that conference. There are too many strange things; too many unanswered questions. This is not normal. If my calculations are correct; if my theory is what I think it is, my baby is growing at a gestation rate that is at the very least twice that of a normal pregnancy." "Possibly even triple that," Meena replied quietly. "So where should we start?" Andrew asked. "From within," replied Allison. "Let's start with ourselves. I think you should begin with bloodwork, Dr. Covington. An MRI, EEG, EKG, the works. And Dr. Mulder," Allison said as she turned to face Meena, "I'm hoping you'll agree to an ultrasound."
Meena hesitated. Things were going way too fast for her; speeding along at a rate that she couldn't control...
"I firmly believe Janus Biomedical is at the root of this," Allison said. "And I plan on proving it. Can I count on your help?" "Without a doubt," Andrew replied. "Dr. Mulder...?" Andrew asked.
Meena nodded slowly. "Yes," she said. "You can count on it."