'No. I didn't in post-op either.' He fed his cable back in, and then mine.
'What is it?'
'Sometimes people permanently lose the memories we removed – '
'But I've got it all back! I'm certain!'
' – and sometimes they lose the ability to jack.'
I felt cold sweat prickling on my palms and forehead and under my arms. 'It's temporary?'
'No. No more than it is with Blaze. It's what happened to General Roser.'
'You knew.' The sick feeling of loss was turning into rage. I stood up and towered over him.
'I told you you might lose ... something.'
'But you meant memory. I was willing to give up memory!'
'That's an advantage to jacking one-way, Julian. Two-way, you can't lie by omission. If you had asked me, 'Could I lose the power to jack?' I would have told you. Fortunately, you didn't ask.'
'You're an MD, Marty. How does the first part of that oath go?'
' 'Do no harm.' But I was a lot of things before I got that piece of paper. A lot of things afterward.'
'Maybe you better get out of here before you start explaining.'
He stood his ground. 'You're a soldier in a war. Now you're a casualty. But the part of you that died-only a part-died to shield your unit, to get it safely into position.'
Rather than hit him, I sat back down on the bed, out of range. 'You sound like a goddamned warboy. A war- boy for peace.'
'Maybe so. You must know how badly I feel about this. I knew I was betraying your trust.'
'Yeah, well, I feel pretty bad about it, too. Why don't you just leave?'
'I'd rather stay and talk to you.'
'I think I have it figured out Go on. You have dozens of people to operate on. Before the world has the slightest chance of being saved.'
'You do still believe that.'
'I haven't had time to think about it, but yes, if the stuff you put back in my mind about the Jupiter Project is true, and if the Hammer of God is real, then something has to be done. You're doing something.'
'You're all right about it?'
'That's like being 'all right' about losing an arm. I'm fine. I'll learn to shave with the other hand.'
'I don't want to leave you like this.'
'Like what? Just get out of my sight. I can think about it without your help.'
He looked at his watch. 'They are waiting for me. I have Colonel Owens on the table.'
I waved him away. 'So go do it. I'll be all right.'
He looked at me for a moment and then got up and left without a word.
I fished around in my breast pocket. The pill was still there.
BACK IN GUADALAJARA THAT morning, Jefferson had warned Blaze to stay out of sight. That was no problem; she was holed up with Ellie Morgan several blocks away, working on the various versions of the paper that would warn the world about the Jupiter Project.
Then Jefferson and Cameron sat for a few hours in the cantina, a small camera on the table between them, watching the elevator doors.
They almost missed her. When she came back down, her silky blond hair was tucked under a wig of black ringlets. She was dressed conservatively and had toned her visible skin to a typical Mexican olive hue. But she hadn't disguised her perfect figure or the way she walked.
Jefferson froze in mid-conversation and surreptitiously slid the camera around with his forefinger.
They had both idly watched her exit the elevator. 'What?' Cameron whispered.
'That's her. Made up like a Mexican.'
Cameron craned around in time to see her glide through the revolving door. 'Good God, you're right.'
Jefferson took the camera upstairs and called Ray, who, along with Mendez, was coordinating things in Marty's absence.
Ray was at the Clinic. He downloaded the pictures of her and studied them. 'No problem. We'll keep an eye out for her.'
Less than a minute later, she walked into the Clinic. The metal detectors didn't catch either of her weapons.
But she didn't pull out a picture of Amelia and ask whether anyone had seen her; Gavrila knew that Amelia had been in this building, and assumed it was enemy territory.
She told the receptionist she wanted to talk about a jack installation, but she refused to talk to anyone but the top man.
'Dr. Spencer's in surgery,' she said. 'It will be at least two hours, maybe three. There are plenty of other people – '
'I'll wait.' Gavrila sat down on a couch with a clear view of the entrance.
In another room, Dr. Spencer joined Ray looking at a monitor watching the woman watching the entrance.
'They say she's dangerous,' Ray said; 'some sort of spy or assassin. She's looking for Blaze.'
'I don't want any trouble with your government.' 'Did I say she was government? If she was official, wouldn't she produce credentials?' 'Not if she was an assassin.'
'The government doesn't have assassins!'
'Oh, really. Do you also believe in your Santa Claus?'
'I mean, no, not for us. There's a crackpot religious group that's after Marty and his people. She's either one of them or she was hired by them.' He explained about her suspicious activity at the hotel.
Spencer stared at her image. 'I believe you are correct. I have studied thousands of faces. Hers is Scandinavian, not Mexican. She probably has dyed her blond hair-or no, she's wearing a wig. But what do you expect me to do about her?'
'I don't suppose you could just lock her up and throw away the key.'
'Please. This is not the United States.'
'Well... I want to talk to her. But she may be really dangerous.'
'She has no knife or gun. That would have registered as she walked through the door.'
'Hm. Don't suppose I could borrow a guy with a gun to watch over her while we talked?'
'As I said – '
''This is not the United States.' What about that old hombre downstairs with the machine gun?'
'He does not work for me. He works for the garage. How dangerous could this woman be, if she has no weapon?'
'More dangerous than me. My education was sadly neglected in the mayhem category. Do you at least have a room where I could talk to her and have somebody watching, in case she decides to tear off my head and beat me to death with it?'
'That's not difficult. Take her to room 1.' He aimed a remote and clicked. The screen showed an interview room. 'It's a special room for seguridad. Take her in there and I will watch. For ten or fifteen minutes; then I will ask someone else to watch.
'These ultimodiadores – you call them Enders – is that what this is all about?'
'There's a relation.'
'But they are harmless. Silly people, and what, blaspheming? But harmless, except to their own souls.'
'Not these, Dr. Spencer. If we could jack, you'd understand how scared I am of her.' For Spencer's protection, no one who knew the whole plan could jack with him two-way. He accepted the condition as typical American paranoia.
'I have a male nurse who is very fat... no, very large-and who knows, who grasps, a black belt in karate. He will be watching along with me.'
'No. By the time he got down the stairs, she could kill me.'
Spencer nodded and thought. 'I'll put him in the room next door, with a beeper.' He held up the remote and pushed a button. 'Like now. This will call him.'
Ray excused himself and went to the bathroom, where he was unable to do anything but catalogue his
