"Kate Wilhelm - April Fools' Day Forever" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilhelm Kate)

came rushing in.
Was it crazy of her to think they had killed her two babies? Why
would they? Who were they? Weren't autopsies performed on
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newborn babies? Wouldn't the doctors and nurses be liable to
murder charges, just like anyone else? These were the practical
aspects, she decided. There were more. The fear of a leak. Too
many people would have to be involved. It would be too dangerous,
unless it was also assumed that everyone in the delivery room, in
the OB ward, in fact, was part of a gigantic conspiracy. If only she
could remember more of what had happened.
Everything had been normal right up to delivery time. Dr. Wymann
had been pleased with her pregnancy from the start. Absolutely
nothing untoward had happened. Nothing. But when she woke up,
Martie had been at her side, very pale, red-eyed. The baby is dead,
he'd said. And, Honey, I love you so much. I'm so sorry. There
wasn't a thing they could do. And on and on. They had wept
together. Someone had come in with a tray that held a needle. Sleep.
Wrong end of it. Start at the other end. Arriving at the hospital, four-
minute pains. Excited, but calm. Nothing unexpected. Dr. Wymann
had briefed her on procedure. Nothing out of the ordinary. Blood
sample, urine. Weight. Blood pressure. Allergy test. Dr. Wymann:
Won't be long now, Julia. You're doing fine. Sleep. Waking to see
Martie, pale and red-eyed at her side.
Dr. Wymann? He would have known. He wouldn't have let them do
anything to her baby!
At the foot of the stairs she listened to the baby crying. Please don't,
she thought at it. Please don't cry. Please. The baby wailed on and
on.
That was the first pregnancy, four years ago. Then last year, a repeat


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performance, by popular demand. She put her hands over her ears
and ran back to the fireplace. She thought of the other girl in the
double room, a younger girl, no more than eighteen. Her baby had
died too in the staph outbreak. Sleeping, waking up, no reason, no
sound in the room, but wide awake with pounding heart, the chill of
fear all through her. Seeing the girl then, short gown, long lovely
leg climbing over the guard rail at the window. Pale yellow light in
the room, almost too faint to make out details, only the silhouettes
of objects. Screaming suddenly, and at the same moment becoming
aware of figures at the door. An intern and a nurse. Not arriving, but