Origin in Death (In Death #21)(59)

But they sat, stood, sprawled around Roarke's lush and elegant parlor happy as a pack of puppies.

They chattered. She'd never understood why women chattered, and seemed to have an endless supply of stuff to talk about. Food, men, each other, clothes, men, hair. Even shoes. She'd never knew there was so much to say about shoes, and that none of it actually correlated related to walking in them.

And since Mavis was knocked up, babies were high on the chatter.

"I feel completely mag." Mavis gobbled up fancy cheese, crackers, stuffed veggies, and whatever else was in reach as if food were about to be declared illegal. "We're going into week thirty-three, and they say he/she can, like, hear stuff, and even see in there, and its head's down now-assuming the position. Sometimes you can feel his/her foot poking."

Poking what? Eve wondered. The kidneys, the liver? The very idea had her avoiding the pate.

"How's Leonardo handling it?" Nadine asked.

"He's aces. We're taking classes now. Hey, Dallas, you and Ro need to sign up for your coaching class."

Eve made some sound, but found it impossible to express the full terror.

"That's right, you're coaching." Louise beamed. "That's wonderful. It's so good for the mom to have people she loves and trusts with her during labor and delivery."

Eve was saved from coming up with a comment when Louise began to ask Mavis what method she planned to use, where she intended give birth.

But she did manage a muttered "Coward" under her breath when she spotted Roarke slipping out of the room.

So she poured a second glass of wine.

Despite her strange and expanding shape, Mavis never stopped moving. She had traded her usual heels or platforms for gel-soles, but even they were what Eve assumed was the height of fashion. The boots

were some sort of abstract pattern of pink on green and rose to the Knees.

With them Mavis wore a sparkly green skirt with a snug green top that highlighted her protruding belly rather than disguising it. The sleeves of the shirt carried the same pattern as the boots and ended in a lot of pink and green feathers.

Her hair was wound high, pink and green ropes. There were feathers hanging from her ears. And a sparkly miniature heart at the corner of one eye.

"We should get started." Trina, who'd transformed her own hair into a waterfall down her back, in blinding white, smiled-evilly, Eve thought. "Lots to do. Where we going for it?"

"Roarke had the pool house set up," Mavis said and popped something else in her mouth. "I asked if we could play there. Swimming's good for me and the belly."

"I need to talk with Nadine and Louise. Separately," Eve added.

"Official."

"That's chilly. We can split off down there. We can take the food, right?" Mavis grabbed a tray, just in case.

It was no way to conduct official business, Eve thought, sitting in the steam room with Louise.

"I'm in," Louise said, and chugged from a bottle of water. "I'll set up the time with Roarke. If I see anything suspicious, I'll let you know. It's doubtful-if there is illegal genetic manipulation or engineering going on-that they'd be in accessible areas, but I might get a sense of something."

"You agreed pretty fast."

"Adds a little excitement to my day. Plus, there are lines, or should be in medicine and science. This is one of them for me. I don't have a problem with the illegality, frankly. Hell, birth control for women was illegal right here in the U.S. of A. less than two hundred years ago. Without research and underground movements, we might still be having kids every year and burning our bodies out by forty. No, thanks

"So what's the problem with tidying up genes until everything's just perfect?"

Louise shook her head. "Have you looked at Mavis?"

"Hard not to."

With a laugh, Louise took another drink. "What's happening to her is a miracle. Anatomy and biological process aside, creating life is a miracle, and should stay that way. Yes, we can-and we should-use our knowledge and our technology to insure the health and safety of the mother and child. Eliminate birth defects and disease whenever possible. But crossing that line into designing babies? Manipulate emotions, physical appearance, mental capacity, even personality traits? That's no miracle. It's ego."

The door to the steam room opened, and Peabody, her face covert in blue gunk, stuck her head in. "You're up, Dallas."

"No, I'm not. I have to brief Nadine."

"I'll go now." With what Eve considered sick enthusiasm, Louise sprang up.

"Send Nadine into my office," Eve ordered Peabody.

"Can't. She's in stage one of detoxification. Wrapped up like a mummy," Peabody explained. "In a seaweed deal."

"That's revolting."

Eve pulled on a robe. The pool area, always lush with plants and tropical trees, had become a horrifying treatment center. Padded tables with bodies stretched on them. Weird smells, weirder music. Trina had decked herself out in a lab coat. The splatters on it were a rainbow. E might have preferred blood. At least she understood blood.

Mavis lay, her colorful hair covered with a clear, protective cap, the rest of her coated with various hues of substances Eve didn't want to identify.

The belly was. .. prodigious.