Read Mutation for Free Online Page A

out loud?
    Couldn’t have, I thought. No-one else reacted. Just Georgia.
    And it wasn’t just the name either. She was afraid . Like she knew Tabitha was something dangerous.
    I stopped at the top of the steps, and turned instinctively to look back out at the town. Checking that the coast was clear, though I wasn’t even up to anything. My eyes passed over the Shackleton Building. I imagined Shackleton sitting up there in his office, tracking my every move, and my lower back gave another dull throb.
    The doors slid open to let me into the medical centre. Mum and Dad were standing in the middle of the waiting room, talking to Dr Montag.
    The doc tensed up as I approached.
    â€˜Jordan wanted to sit in with us this morning,’ said Mum, apparently mistaking his frustration for confusion.
    â€˜That’s not a problem, is it, doc?’ I smiled.
    â€˜Of course not,’ said Montag, tightening his grip on the laptop under his arm. He looked back to Mum and Dad. ‘Shall we?’
    I started towards Montag’s office, then hesitated as the doc moved off in a different direction.
    â€˜This way, please.’
    The doc led us across to the other side of the reception area, down a winding corridor, to a door marked STAFF ONLY. He pulled out a key and let us in. We headed down a flight of stairs, along another corridor, and finally stopped at a tiny room with nothing in it but a desk and a few plastic chairs.
    â€˜I really must apologise,’ said Montag as he ushered us inside. ‘Maintenance are doing some work on my office today. Why they couldn’t have chosen a more convenient time is beyond me, but … Anyway. Please, have a seat.’
    He was lying.
    Why? What was his real reason for dragging us all the way down here? What was he about to do to us that he didn’t want anyone else to see?
    â€˜What have you got for us, doc?’ asked Dad, chair creaking under him as he sat down. He reached across and squeezed Mum’s hand.
    Montag took a breath. ‘All right,’ he said, setting his laptop down on the desk in front of us. ‘As you will recall, Samara, this all began just over a month ago when you first came in to see me, complaining of, among other things, intermittent nausea and shooting pains in your stomach. We ran a series of tests at the end of which I informed you that you were five weeks pregnant.’
    â€˜Doc, we already know all this,’ Dad cut in. ‘Why are you –?’
    â€˜Because,’ said Montag delicately, ‘that assessment may not have been entirely accurate.’
    Silence.
    Montag waited, face all doctorly calm.
    â€˜What are you saying?’ asked Mum.
    Montag turned to his computer and brought up an image of a little blob. Leaning forward, I could make out the shapes of a head and some tiny hands and feet.
    â€˜This is an average foetus at nine weeks,’ said Montag. ‘The image is at actual size – something approaching two centimetres. Based on my original assessment of your pregnancy, we would expect your baby to be at approximately this stage of development by now.’
    â€˜But …?’ said Mum.
    â€˜ But, ’ Montag continued, ‘when I performed an ultrasound earlier this week, what I actually found was this. ’
    The doc clicked to the next image.
    I jolted in my chair. Mum tightened her grip on Dad’s hand.
    The image in front of us had just exploded in size. We were now looking at a baby almost a quarter as big as the laptop screen.
    Dad’s face went cold. ‘I don’t understand.’
    â€˜Neither do I,’ said Montag. ‘At the moment, all I can tell you is what I’ve observed: as of a few days ago, your baby is just over fourteen centimetres in length and weighs in at approximately one hundred grams – figures more consistent with a baby at fifteen weeks.’
    â€˜You’re telling me I’m fifteen weeks pregnant?’ said Mum.