“Is it time to take his temperature?” Alan asked. “No,” Liz said. “But I thought he might be hungry when he wakes up, so I got us some food from the breakfast buffet.” Alan nodded. He rubbed his eyes. He’d spent the night on top of the covers. Liz had spent the night at the desk, but she looked better rested than he felt. She moved to the door to Joe’s room and pulled it open enough to look through. “Don’t wake him up,” Alan said. He looked at his timer. “We have to check his temp again in ninety minutes.” Liz winked at him. She went into Joe’s room and closed the door. Alan swung his feet to the floor. Inspiration came to him in flashes of bright white light exploding in his brain. He closed his eyes. Alan reached for his phone. “Hello?” Bob answered the phone. “Bob, you remember that book we read?” There was silence on the line. “Bob?” “Yeah?” “In that book—did you get the sense that anyone could do that process, or that it had to be done by one of the women in that lineage?”
