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"It is normal to sleep," the procurator said. "The monster made you sleep." "I've been sleeping all my life!" Angrily, the procurator added, "I am here at this resort for rest; my health is bad." "I wonder," Harms said. "Notify Immigration, at once, to hold them. Do it now.' Harms rang off, and contacted Immigration. I will take that woman, that Rybys Rommey-Asher, and break her neck, he said to himself. I will chop her into little pieces, and her fetus along with her. I will chop up all of them and feed them to the animals at the zoo. Surprised, he asked himself; Did I think that? The ferocity of his ratiocination amazed him. I really hate them, he realized. I am furious. I am furious with Bulkowsky for logging eight full hours of sleep in the midst of this crisis; if I had the power I would chop him up, too. When he had the director of Washington, D.C. Immigration on the line he asked first of all if the woman Rybys Rommey- Asher, her husband and Elias Tate were still there. "I'll check, your Eminence," the bureau chief said. A pause, a very long pause. Harms counted off the seconds, cursing and praying by turns. Then the director returned. "We are still pro- cessing them." "Hold them. Don't let them go for any reason whatsoever. The woman is pregnant. Inform her-do you know who I'm talk- ing about? Rybys Rommey-Asher-- inform her that there will be a mandatory abortion of the fetus. Have your people make up any excuse they want." "Do you actually want an abortion performed on her? Or is this a pretext-" "I want abortion induced within the next hour," Harms said. "A saline abortion. I want the fetus killed. I'm going to take you into our confidence. I have been conferring with the procurator maximus; this is global policy. The fetus is a freak. A radiation sport. Possibly even the monster offspring of interspecies sym- biosis. Do you understand?"
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