The Brood Page #3

it's like the blood system...

with its own style of veins and arteries...

but no heart.

You have to keep moving

to get it to circulate.

And they've just given me pills.

They do that every day.

And I've got to move them

through the lymphatic system.

Goddamn it.

Pardon my sweat.

I'm gonna take a bath, real soon.

So, Mr. Carveth...

how did you get my name?

My lawyer knows your lawyer.

I see. I get it.

Is your lawyer

preparing a case against Raglan, too?

Basically, yes.

- Slightly different from yours.

- How different?

My wife is still in therapy with Raglan.

I'm claiming psychological damage,

not physiological.

I see. Give him some more time

with your wife...

and you'll be able to claim

physiological damage, too.

Wouldn't this look impressive in court?

Do you like it? I do.

That's Raglan. That's psychoplasmics...

and it's called lymphosarcoma.

And it's spreading.

It's a form of cancer

of the lymphatic system.

You blame Raglan for that?

Raglan did it.

Raglan encouraged my body...

to revolt against me.

And it did.

I have a small revolution on my hands...

and I'm not putting it down

very successfully.

Then your lawyer really thinks

he can prove Raglan's responsible?

Are you kidding me?

You can't prove something like that in court.

Right from square one,

you're into, what, metaphysics?

How do you know

I'm not going to get cancer at age 32...

whether I'd gone into

psychoplasmics therapy or not?

No, we'd get laughed out of court.

Then why are you going into court?

Revenge.

Even if we lose, people will get nervous

about psychoplasmics.

It will be bad publicity.

They won't even remember

whether we won or lost.

They'll just remember the slogan:

"Psychoplasmics can cause cancer."

Catchy.

Is that going to help?

Maybe.

I'm not alone.

I'm in touch with a lot of people

who did psychoplasmics.

We might form a club.

I want to help you.

Okay. Thanks.

Dr. Raglan?

Yes?

I'm Barton Kelly, Nola Carveth's father.

Glad to meet you.

I'm sorry to accost you like this...

but your receptionist wasn't too helpful.

She probably knew I was on my way to...

Did you know

that Nola's mother died yesterday?

That she was murdered?

Yes, the police spoke to me.

- Then you've told her.

- No, I haven't.

That's why I'm here, to tell her.

Mr. Kelly, your wife's death

was a tragic and shocking thing.

That's why Nola must not be told.

What?

Nola's going through a very critical stage

in her therapy.

I'm not sure she could take it.

Are you saying that

I'm just supposed to bury the girl's mother...

and not tell her about it?

Yes, that's what I'm saying.

You are one ignorant son of a b*tch,

Dr. Raglan.

Now, I have left my phone number...

on your front desk.

If I don't hear from my daughter

by tomorrow afternoon...

I'm coming back up here to get her.

Shall I have him stopped?

No, it's all right.

He's drunk.

Hi. Sorry I'm late.

- You two look like you're having fun.

- We were.

Daddy, Ms. Mayer said she was starving.

Can we feed her at our place tonight?

Candy...

We could if she wanted to.

What do you think?

Well, I...

We could talk after Candy goes to bed.

Sure.

As soon as Candy realized

she had me alone...

she got me to play

"mother and daughter" with her.

She obviously needs mothering,

and isn't getting it.

Sometimes it just kills me to think

I might have screwed my kid up already.

She's not even six.

It's not just you.

Sometimes when I'm being easy on myself,

I say, "It's not your fault.

"You got taken in.

"You got involved with a woman

who married you for your sanity...

"hoping it would rub off."

Instead, it started to work the other way.

Hello?

It's Barton Kelly, Frank.

How are you?

Just mediocre.

How are you?

I made a mistake.

I came back to the old place.

It's got me.

I'm depressed as hell.

Barton, get in a cab, will you?

- Just tell him to take...

- That's not all.

There's Nola, too.

How do you mean?

I went up to that place to see her.

They wouldn't even let me talk to her.

They said no to me, her own father!

Jesus.

So I'm going back up there, to Somafree.

We'll leave just as soon as you get here.

Soon as I get there?

I'll be waiting for you.

I know you'll want to go up there with me.

- You're not far from here, are you?

- Barton, listen to me.

I don't think that's a very smart thing to do.

I'm doing it, with or without you.

Okay.

I'm only about 15 minutes away. Wait for me.

I'll be there.

You're a good lad.

We'll go up there together,

and kick their ass.

I'm waiting on you.

I've a feeling

I've just been recruited to baby-sit.

Would you? It'd take 45 minutes.

He's drunk.

He'll drive his car off a bridge,

unless I talk some sense into him.

That's all it'll take.

Okay.

Thanks.

Help yourself to some coffee.

Here.

Look at this while I'm gone.

If you like it, I'll give it to you.

I shouldn't have...

I never planned it to be this way.

Nola?

Barton!

It's me!

I can't get over it.

The thing was in the house.

It was in the house all the time.

We searched the place...

but we weren't looking

for anything that small, and we missed it.

We were spending our time

checking out an Estonian musician.

Have you found out who it belongs to,

the kid?

No. My guess is...

some crazy woman didn't want

anyone to know she had a deformed child.

She's locked this kid up in an attic

for years and never told anybody.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Hello.

Who's this?

Ruth Mayer.

Did you want to speak with Frank Carveth?

Ruth Mayer? From Krell Street School?

Yes.

Is this Mrs. Carveth?

Are you and my husband

having your own private PTA meeting?

I won't even bother to answer that.

You b*tch!

You're killing my family!

Our friend has very strange eyes.

They have irises, but no retinas.

I should think his vision of the world

is very distorted.

I'm pretty certain he sees things

only in black-and-white.

No colors.

The upper lip is cleft.

Real harelip...

but the palate is not.

And the tongue is too thick and inflexible

for proper speech.

It has no teeth...

but you can get a pretty nasty bite...

from these strange, beak-like gums.

Why did it die?

I found some sort of collapsed, fleshy sac...

between the little fellow's shoulder blades.

It contains traces

of a solid nutrient material...

a bit like the yolk sac of certain fish...

or a camel's hump.

Basically, it's a gas tank

that was full at birth.

Once the hump material

is completely assimilated...

I think the creature simply starves to death.

Runs out of gas, so to speak.

And that brings us

to the last point of interest.

There's an external deformity.

I mean, apart from the lack of sexual organs.

It's extremely subtle

and extremely provocative.

I wonder if either of you have noticed it.

- Has no navel.

- No what?

No bellybutton.

- The thing has no bellybutton.

- That's right.

And that means this creature

has never really been born.

At least, not the way

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