"Yeah. You guys can tell her the story if you want, I'm going to find a doctor."

"I'd like to hear it, too," Clarabelle says wryly. "I don't remember much of the past... how long's it been?"

"Six months," Angie says. "Goodbye, Wastelander. I can't thank you enough for your help."

"You're welcome!" 

She scuttles off through her eponymous Wasteland until she hits the edge of the city, turns back, puts Hephaesta's concealing outfit back on, and heads inwards, keeping an ear out for anything related to the Orphanage incident or where one might find a doctor. 

There is a fair amount of discussion of the Orphanage incident going on. People don't see giant bugs running through the city every day, even in London. Few people seem to know the actual purpose of the Orphanage, and there's a certain amount of discussion asking why an orphanage would have such a thing in its basement anyway.

Doctors can be found throughout the city; surgeons and sawbones congregate in Watchmaker's Hill to take advantage of the Department of Menace Eradication, but general practitioners are usually found in population centers like the suburbs around the Shuttered Palace. She could also try the University, based on the idea that scientists and doctors are rather similar.

Also, like, a regular doctor isn't necessarily going to know what to do with a half-giant-insect baby. 

She heads for the University. 

On campus is a familiar face, wearing a familiar blue suit and hat.

She peers at the Wastelander, then strolls up to her. "You know," she says, "I've heard some fascinating things over the last few days."

"What a funny coincidence, I've done some fascinating things over the last few days. And am looking to do some more! Can you recommend me someone who would have any idea how to help with a truly bizarre pregnancy."

"That would depend on what you mean by bizarre... and by help, for that matter. I can make a recommendation for any combination of the two words, though."

"Not quite human, and ensuring that the child lives."

"Ah. Not quite human... I know just the woman. Regrettably, she's dead. And, more pressingly, I don't know where she is. Besides 'with the Boatman'."

Sigh. "Of course. Because every time I try to do something, stupid complications arise. I don't suppose you know of any way to summon the Boatman for a chat besides dying oneself."

"I don't, unhappily. I do, however, have some very convenient ways of dying."

"Let's hear it."

"I've studied enough medicine that I could bleed you out without trouble. You'd hardly feel it, past the initial sting - just like falling asleep. If you prefer to be dead for a set period of time rather than simply staying that way until you heal over, I could put a knife through your heart and remove it after a certain amount of time. For the sake of completeness, I've got poisons too, but I'd prefer to stay away from that side of things. Too... unpredictable."

"Yes, let's avoid poison. If I let you bleed me, what are you going to do with the blood?"

She laughs. "So few people would think to ask. I'd like to examine some under a Semiotic Magnifier, but if you ask me not to I won't."

"Tell you what. Convince me I ought to let you."

"I have an interest in enhancing humanity's lot; the deck is a bit stacked against them, at the moment. My ultimate goal is immortality for all who seek it, as in the Presbyterate, and freedom of form. I have reason to believe your blood could help me immensely in achieving either or both of those. I have other aims, as well - I'll not claim I don't - but they pale in comparison."

"Well. I like that goal, and I do also believe my blood could help with it. I'll make you a deal: you can have my blood, but if I find out you've been using it for more nefarious purposes, I find you and I end you."

"Your confidence is beautiful. I agree to your terms; shall we repair somewhere more suitable?"

"Certainly. But first, might I have the name of the one whom I seek?"

"Of course. Her name was Dr. Vaughan. Never chose an alias, and no one could make one stick to her. -oh, and I'm called the Soulless Provocateuse. A pleasure to meet you properly."

She begins to lead the Wastelander out towards Spite.

"A pleasure to meet you! What happened to your soul?"

"It was the price I paid for knowledge of the Red Science... the arts which can break the Chain. Unfortunately, while it's proven useful in my work, my contact overstated just how useful it would be. I made him aware of his error, but by that time my soul had already been sent to the vaults of the Brass Embassy."

Her face is impassive. "I haven't missed it too terribly."

"...Hmm. Well, I am the Light-Hearted Wastelander."