Vs. chromosomes

“I wish I could get a better idea of what exactly it is,” Carlisle murmured. “The fetus is well protected. I haven’t been able to produce an ultrasonic image. I doubt there is any way to get a needle through the amniotic sac, but Rosalie won’t agree to let me try, in any case.”
	“A needle?” I mumbled. “What good would that do?”
	“The more I know about the fetus, the better I can estimate what it will be capable of. What I wouldn’t give for even a little amniotic fluid. If I knew even the chromosomal count . . .”
	“You’re losing me, Doc. Can you dumb it down?”
	He chuckled once—even his laugh sounded exhausted. “Okay. How much biology have you taken? Did you study chromosomal pairs?”
	“Think so. We have twenty-three, right?”
	“Humans do.”
	I blinked. “How many do you have?”
	“Twenty-five.”
	I frowned at my fists for a second. “What does that mean?”
	“I thought it meant that our species were almost completely different. Less related than a lion and a house cat. But this new life—well, it suggests that we’re more genetically compatible than I’d thought.” He sighed sadly. “I didn’t know to warn them.”