"May I see Elsie now?"
Bell rose from his desk chair and motioned for Pitt to follow him out of the office and down the hall.
Since entering the clinic, the only two people Pitt had seen were the administrator in the lobby and Dr.
Bell. The clinic seemed incredibly clean and sterile and devoid of life.
Bell came to a door with no guard outside, inserted a card into an electronic slot, and pushed it open.
A woman was sitting up in a standard hospital bed, staring through a window whose view was interrupted by a heavy screen and a series of bars. This was the first time Pitt had seen Elsie in daylight, and he was awed by the incredible resemblance to her dead cousin. The same mane of blond hair, the same blue-gray eyes. He found it hard to believe they were merely cousins.
"Ms. Wolf," said Bell, in a cheery voice, "I've brought you a visitor." He looked at Pitt and nodded.
"I'll leave you two alone. Try not to take too long."
There was no warning to Pitt about communicating with the doctor in case of a problem, and though he didn't see any TV cameras, Pitt knew without a doubt that their every movement and word was being monitored and recorded.
He pulled up a chair beside her bed and sat down, saying nothing for nearly a minute, staring into the eyes that seemed to peer through his head at a lithograph of the Grand Canyon hanging on the wall beyond. At last, he said, "My name is Dirk Pitt. I don't know if the name means anything to you, but it seemed to register with the commander of the U-2015 when we communicated with each other on an ice floe."
Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but she remained silent. "I dove on the wreckage," Pitt continued,
"and retrieved the body of your cousin, Heidi. Would you like me to arrange for her to be transported to Karl in Buenos Aires for proper burial in the Wolf private cemetery?"
Pitt was treading a narrow path, but he assumed that the Wolfs had a private cemetery.
This time he scored points. Her eyes went reflective as she tried to cut through his words. Finally, her lips pressed together with obvious anger, she began to tremble and move. "You!" she spat. "You are the one responsible for the deaths of our people in Colorado."
"Dr. Bell was wrong. You do have a tongue."
"You were also there when our submarine was sunk?" she asked, as if confused.
"I plead self-defense for my action in Colorado. And yes, I was on the Polar Storm when your sub went down, but I was not responsible for the incident. Blame the US. Navy if you must. If not for their timely intervention, your cousin and her bloody band of pirates would have sunk a harmless ocean research ship and killed more than a hundred innocent crewmen and scientists. Don't ask me to shed tears for Heidi. As far as I'm concerned, she and her crew got what they deserved."
"What have you done with her body?" she demanded.
"It's here in the clinic's morgue," he answered. "I'm told the two of you could have grown from the same pod."
"We are genetically unblemished," Elsie said arrogantly. "Unlike the rest of the human race."
"How did that come about?"
"It took three generations of selection and experimentation. My generation has physically perfect bodies and the mental capacity of geniuses. We are also exceedingly creative in the arts."
"Really?" Pitt said sarcastically. Ànd all this time I thought inbreeding generated imbeciles."
Elsie stared at Pitt for a long moment, then smiled coldly. "Your insults are meaningless. In a short time, you and all the other flawed individuals who walk the earth will be dead."
Pitt studied her eyes for a reaction. When he replied, it was with detached indifference. "Ah yes, the twin of the co
met that destroyed the Amenes nine thousand years ago returns, strikes the earth, and decimates the human race. I already know all about that."
He almost missed it, but it was there. A brief glint in the eyes of elation mixed with rapture. The pure sense of evil about her seemed so concentrated he could reach out and touch it. It disturbed him. He felt as though she was keeping a secret far more menacing than any he could remotely conceive.
"How long did it take your experts to decipher the inscriptions?" she asked casually.
"Five or six days."
Her face grew smug. "Our people did it in three."