I am a carrier of the Nephilus gene, even if it is a recessive factor in me. I can make it! he said to himself, and he did so. He arrived at the well exhausted. He caught his breath, dived again and reached the tailgate, went into the airtight chamber and then, descending a spiral staircase and crossing a short corridor, he arrived in the control room. Here, too, he found a strange situation, and could not perceive why. His attention was not at all drawn to the fact that the cryogenic capsules were all hermetically sealed, but what he saw cheered him up. Maria Lucia was there, lying on a bed immersed in an artificial sleep, attached to a series of machines that guaranteed her survival and that of her fetus, or her fetuses, judging by the huge belly. There was no trace of Vladimiro, but if
