“What are you talking about?”

“Kusum lied about finding a male egg!” An hysterical edge was creeping onto her voice.

Jack pushed her to arms’ length. Her face was tortured. He wanted to shake her but didn’t.

“Talk sense!”

“Kaka-ji is Bengali for ’father’!”

“So?”

Kolabati only stared at him.

“Oh, jeez!” Jack leaned back against the sink, his mind reeling with the idea of Kusum impregnating the Mother rakosh. Visions of the act half-formed in his brain and then quickly faded to merciful black.

“How could your brother have fathered those rakoshi? Kaka-ji has to be a title of respect or something like that.”

Kolabati shook her head slowly, sadly. She appeared emotionally and physically drained.

“No. It’s true. The changes in the younglings are evidence enough.”

“But how?”

“Probably when she was very young and docile. He needed only one brood from her. From there on the rakoshi would mate with each other and bring the nest to full size.”

“I can’t believe it. Why would he even try?”

“Kusum…” Her voice faltered. “Kusum sometimes thinks Kali speaks to him in dreams. He may believe she told him to mate with the female. There are many dark tales of rakoshi mating with humans.”

“Tales! I’m not talking about tales! This is real life! I don’t know much about biology but I know cross-species fertilization is impossible!”

“But the rakoshi aren’t a different species, Jack. As I told you last night, legend has it that the ancient evil gods—the Old Ones—created the rakoshi as obscene parodies of humanity. They took a man and a woman and reshaped them in their image—into rakoshi. That means that somewhere far, far up the line there’s a common genetic ancestor between human and rakosh.” She gripped Jack’s arms. “You’ve got to stop him, Jack!”

“I could have stopped him last night,” he said, remembering how he had sighted down the barrel of the .357 at the space between Kusum’s eyes. “Could have killed him.”

“It’s not necessary to kill him to stop him.”

“I don’t see any other way.”

“There is: his necklace. Take it from him and he will lose his hold on the rakoshi.”

Jack smiled ruefully. “Sort of like the mice deciding to bell the cat, isn’t it?”

“No. You can do it. You are his equal… in more ways than you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why didn’t you shoot Kusum when you had the chance?”

“Worried about you, I guess, and… I don’t know… couldn’t pull the trigger.” Jack had wondered about the answer to that question, too.

Kolabati came close and leaned against his chest. “That’s because Kusum’s like you and you’re like him.”

Resentment flared like a torch. He pushed her away. “That’s crazy!”

“Not really,” she said, her smile seductive. “You’re carved from the same stone. Kusum is you—gone mad.”

Jack didn’t want to hear that. The idea repulsed him… frightened him. He changed the subject.

“If he comes tonight, will it be alone or will he bring some rakoshi?”