The air in the room, which had been electric... with awe... and terror, suddenly... froze.
Aris... was no longer... the baffled... old man.
He... was the surgeon.
He... hit... a... button. The... flicker... on the screen... froze. A... still... image.
A... headstone.
"We... we have... a fact," Aris said, his voice... now... cold. Clinical.
"It... it is... a pregnancy. It... it is... viable. It... it is... five... weeks... old."
He... he looked... at Karlman. "It... it is... a... one-in-a-billion... chance."
Then... he looked... at Eunice.
"And... it... is... the... single... most... dangerous... thing... I... have ever... seen."
The thriller... was back.
"What... what... do you mean?" Eunice whispered. The joy... was evaporating.
"This... 'remnant,'" Aris said, his... his pen... tapping... the file. "It's not... a womb. It... it is... a biological... engine. It... it did... its job. It... it created... this. But... it... it is... not... a house."
He... he pointed... to the screen.
"This... is not... an 'ectopic' pregnancy. It's... it's not... in your... tubes. This... is not... a 'uterine' pregnancy. It... it is not... in... a womb."
He... he circled... the shadow.
"This... is an... abdominal... pregnancy. It... it implanted... somewhere... in... your... pelvic... cavity. It... it is... in a... 'non-favourable... position.'"
Karlman... the analyst... was seizing... on the words.
"Non-favourable...?"
"It... it means... it... it is... floating," Aris said, his... his voice... grave. "It's... it's attached... itself... to... something. The... omentum... the... outside... of... your... colon. It... it's... already... found... a... blood... supply. It's... it's why... you're sick. It's... it's why... you're... nauseous. It's... it's why... you have... a fever. Your... your body... is... reacting... to... this... invader."
"An... invader?" Eunice whispered.
"It... it is... an invader, Eunice," Aris said, his... his voice... pained. "This... thing... this... miracle... it... it doesn't... know... it's not... in a womb. It... it is... a... placenta. And... a placenta... grows. A placenta... digs. It... it looks... for blood. It's... it's what... they do. But... in a... womb... it's safe. It's designed... for that."
He... he looked... at her.
"Here...? In... there...? It... it will... dig... into... anything. Your... intestines. Your... liver. Your... aorta."
Karlman... stopped... breathing.
"It's... it's a... a bomb," Eunice whispered. The same... words... as Karlman.
"It... it is... a bomb," Aris confirmed. "And... the timer... is on. And... Eunice... there... there is no... way... to deliver... it. It's... it's not... in a womb. It... it cannot... contract. It... it cannot... 'birth.' To... to get it out... we... we can't... just... cut... a cord. We... we would... have... to detatch... the placenta. And... if... we do... that... if... we pull... it... off... whatever... it is... attached... to..."
"She'll... she'll... bleed out," Karlman choked. "On... the... table."
"In... 90 seconds," Aris said. "It... it is... catastrophic... hemorrhage. It... it is... unsurvivable."
The suspense. The thriller. The... the horror. It... it was all... true.
The "curse"... had... delivered... its... masterpiece.
It... it had... given... them... hope.
And... it... had made... the hope... the murder... weapon.