Page 33 of Lagoon

He injected himself with it as a test. If it worked, they could give it to the others. If he died…

“You idiot,” seethed Riley from across the room, who was examining herself with the ultrasound. “We need you and your expertise. You can’t treat yourself like a guinea pig.”

“So, I’m supposed to volunteer Harris?” he said caustically. “I think that will go over well.”

She glared at him.

“You hate me,” he said tightly, looking away. “I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Don’t, none of that,” she said, sighing.

“But I—”

“We focus, Dr. Greyson, and we try to diagnose what’s happened and do something to fix it. There’s no time for apologies. That’s not what I need from you right now.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Right. Well, then. Let me draw some of your blood to see what’s happening to you. What’s the ultrasound showing?”

“Something’s happened to my uterus,” she said dully.

“What?” He scurried over to look at the screen. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but he thought things looked betterthan they had before. There were no strange bulges or blisters like before. Everything looked smooth and… “What’s wrong?”

“It’s larger,” she said. “There’s something… I can’t be sure but I think something has been altered to do with my cervix.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh.”

She let out a breath. “We should… examine it. I tried. I went into the bathroom and I could feel that something about it doesn’t feel right.”

“We?” he said. “You mean me. You want me to put something in your…”Say it, you’re a fucking scientist.“Vagina.” Except now, things were stirring in his crotch, which was mortifying. He felt his face growing hot.

“If you don’t think you can handle it, I’ll figure out some other way,” she said, her voice bland. “I realize it’s irregular to ask, but we need toknow, don’t we?”

“I don’t have… tools,” he said. “This isn’t a gynecological office.”

“Put on gloves and use your finger,” she said. “It’s hard for me to reach, and your fingers are longer than mine and—” She broke off, probably because of whatever expression he was making. “Please, Jonathan. Please?”

He had an erection. Perfect. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to think about baseball—but that just made him think about Bub—there.

That was a perfectly unsexy thought, beating poor Bub to death. He was deflating, thank Christ. He gave her a nod. “All right, fine. I’ll get gloves.” He was actually wearing gloves, but they’d been tainted, and he wasn’t going to put them inside her.

Fuck, hard again.

All right, no fighting it, then. Maybe she just wouldn’t notice. He tried to glance down at his crotch to see if it was obvious that he was erect. But he couldn’t tell and he didn’t want her to notice that he was looking at himself.

He’d never been quite so embarrassed in his life, he didn’t think.

Briskly, trying to remain professional, he went over to the other side of the room, stripped off his gloves, tossed them in the trash, washed his hands, and put on a fresh pair of gloves.

When he got back to the other side of the room, she’d removed her pants and underwear. She was sitting up, the folded clothing in her lap, biting down on her lip. She looked frightened.

He still had an erection, which made him feel a flood of shame. He paused there, holding up his gloved hands. His voice was tiny. “I don’t know what a normal cervix should feel like. I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell you anything.”

“It felt scaled to me,” she said. “I hope you’ll be able to tell with your gloves, but I think you will, because the difference between the skin of the vaginal walls is distinct.”

“Scaled?” he drew back. “B-but…”

“I know, I can’t understand it either! It’s not like any other creature that I know of. Maybe it’s like a cancer, Jonathan. Maybe we’re falling apart.”

He wanted to reassure her, but he was frightened too.

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