Zinnia

ways, depending on the syn-psych profile of the patient.'

'Nick is a matrix.'

'So you said. To be frank, we've never seen a matrix-talent under the influence of fog, let alone a high-class matrix. We don't know what to expect.'

'I understand.' It wasn't easy talking to Dr. Ferguson while she held the focus on the metaphysical plane. There was so much power pouring through the prism now that Zinnia could barely concentrate on anything else.

'Miss Spring, as I'm sure you're well aware, people who manifest a talent for Synergistic Matrix Analysis are the least understood by the syn-psych experts.'

'I know.'

'The lack of information is partly the fault of the talents, themselves, of course. By nature they tend to be secretive and reclusive. They won't allow themselves to be properly studied and tested.' Dr. Ferguson sighed. 'Unfortunately, that means that when this sort of thing happens, we're left with very little in the way of syn-psych data to guide us.'

'How long will the drug be active in his system?'

'Fortunately crazy-fog metabolizes relatively quickly. Most of it will be gone in a few hours.' Dr. Ferguson hesitated. 'I must warn you that one of the problems in this case was that the dose he received was extremely large and very pure.'

'He's back in control on the metaphysical plane. It's taking everything he's got to deal with his psychic energy, but he is managing to handle it.'

Dr. Ferguson's dark brows drew together. 'You're still holding the focus for him?'

'Yes.'

'Very few prisms can work for extended periods of time with a matrix. They're not quite normal.'

Zinnia smiled wanly. 'I'm not exactly a normal prism.'

'Even so, you must be getting close to psychic exhaustion. How much longer can you hold the focus?'

Zinnia tightened her grip on Nick's hand. 'As long as he needs it.'

He heard voices. Familiar voices. A man and the woman who kept him sane. They were arguing.

'Get out of here, Feather.' The woman was furious. 'I told the nurse not to let anyone into this room.'

'Don't give me orders, lady. I don't work for you. I work for Nick. Why didn't you send for me when it happened?'

'I was too busy getting him to the hospital.'

'Bat-snake shit. You coulda told someone to call. Instead, I have to find out from Nelson Burlton on the late- night news.'

'Stay away from the bed, damn you.' The woman sounded wild now. 'If you don't get away from him, I'll scream for help.'

'Hey, leggo my arm. What the hell is wrong with you? I got a right to visit my boss in the hospital.'

'You're not here to visit him. You're here to kill him.'

'Huh? Kill Nick? Five hells. Are you crazy or somethin'?'

'He told me that you had instructions,' the woman said grimly. 'That you would know what to do in a situation like this.'

'Yeah. That's right. I got my instructions.'

'The only thing Nick fears is the possibility that he might go insane. He told you that if that ever happened, he wanted you to put him out of his misery, didn't he? But he's not going crazy, Feather. I'm holding the focus for him. He's going to be all right.'

'If you think Nick would ask someone to slit his wrists for him, you're the loony one, lady. He'd never put that kind of burden on someone else. If he wanted to commit suicide, he'd do the job, himself.'

'Are you telling me that you're not here to kill him?'

'Hell, no. I'm here because I'm his friend and because I'm also his next-in-command. If somethin' happens to him, I'm supposed to take care of things at the casino.'

'What do you mean?'

'Lady, Nick, here, employs a coupla hundred people at Chastain's Palace. Folks depend on him. He's got responsibilities.'

'And you're the one who's supposed to take care of those responsibilities if he can't, is that it?'

'You got it right, lady. About time.'

'Well, nothing is going to happen to him.' There was absolute conviction in the woman's voice. 'He'll be fine in a few more hours. The doctor says the last of the crazy-fog will have been flushed out of his system by morning.'

'Glad to hear that.'

'So why don't you leave? I'll call you when he comes out of it.'

'You know somethin'? You're as suspicious as he is.'

'Leave. Now.'

'Okay, okay. You're some piece of work, you know that? Wonder if the boss knows what he's getting into with you.'

'Feather?'

'Yeah?'

'Nick says you have contacts on the street.'

'So?'

'If you want to make yourself useful,' the woman said slowly, 'why don't you have your contacts look for the two men who did this. In the confusion, they both got away before the cops arrived.'

There was a short silence.

'You saying what I think you're saying, lady?'

'This was no ordinary mugging attempt. Those two men were waiting for us when we got off the elevator. The doctor says the dose of the drug that Nick received was very strong and very pure. If those two junkies already had their fix for the night, why would they bother to rob us?'

'Good point. If they already had the crazy-fog, the only thing they would have been thinking about was getting off on it. Fog-heads don't tend to worry much about the future. All they care about is the next fix.'

'The two who attacked us did not fight as if they were on drugs. What's more, I'm sure I heard one of them say something about how Nick would soon go crazy.'

'Maybe you're right,' the man called Feather said. He sounded thoughtful now. 'Maybe I best go make myself useful.'

'Do that.'

Nick was amused at the woman's curt authoritative tone, but there was no way to laugh on the metaphysical plane. He was too busy shoving wild power through the glowing crystal.

He was aware of the warmth first. Her hand was wrapped around his. He could feel the pleasant heat of her palm seeping into his cold fingers. Then he realized that the entire left side of his body was warm. He could feel the curve of her hip pressed against him.

He opened his eyes and saw the narrow band of morning sunlight that had managed to slip between the drawn shades. When he turned his head on the pillow he saw Zinnia asleep beside him.

He did not know when he had finally finished wrestling the demons of his psychic energy. He only knew that at some point during the endless night he had at last achieved a state of calm exhaustion, thanks to Zinnia. She had held the focus until the storm had passed.

Even a full-spectrum prism should have burned out quickly in the face of the ceaseless waves of raw, high- class matrix-talent that Zinnia had handled last night. Psychic burnout was nature's way of protecting prisms from being overpowered and controlled by a talent whose energy level was higher than the prism's. The burnout was a temporary condition. Unpleasant, but not permanent.

But Zinnia had not burned out. She was every bit as strong as he was. Nick smiled at the thought.

Her lashes fluttered. For a few seconds she seemed disoriented. Then her eyes cleared. 'You're awake.'

'And reasonably sane, thanks to you.'