That was just from one daughter, ' Jake realized. 'Alicia herself is eighty-six. How many children has she had that she calls herself a baby factory?'...Back in the beginning of the twenty-first century, a 'Baby Factory' was a girl who got pregnant every time she had sex.'She's had more than one child with me!' he realized, now totally astonished. 'And she's working on number three!'"Alicia!" Jake shouted, storming into the bathroom. "Did you get pregnant the last time we were together?"Alicia. They looked at the van approaching behind us, thenat me and must have realized their options were becomingvery limited at that point. I reached over to open thepassenger door and two darkly dressed figures jumped inand closed the door.Quickly I started the truck and slowly drove off so that Iwouldn’t attract attention. The van continued its searchwith the spotlights and soon disappeared from view behindus.With the initial excitement over, reality began to sinkin. If the Border Patrol. His eyes were a dull, pale, soupy brown, and seemed vacant of emotion, unless listlessness and languor could be described as such. He stood near the two women, causing a striking contrast without knowing it, nor caring in any way whatsoever. ‘Hello,’ he said to Mrs Cartwright, and his eyes passed over the swell of the woman’s breasts. She was dressed casually, in warm-weather wear: a white cotton tube top, powder blue capris, and sandals. Her face was made up, her blonde hair tied in a modest. Well, whatever lay belowwouldn't be enough to hurt us through the jump suits. Besides, once wewere through the rift, the locator would surrender minor control to usso we could avoid any unknown obstacles.Passing through the rift was anticlimactic. If it hadn't been for thealtimeter in the locator, we would never have known we had passedthrough it. Or at least we wouldn't have known until we looked down. Offin the distance, just beyond our drop zone, lay the lights of a town. Itdidn't look like.