Hill stood studying Freeman for several minutes, his hands clasped behind his back and a look of sympathy on his face. He watched Freeman’s vital-signs readouts and stared into the bandaged face. Finally, he turned to me, and said, “Well, it was a pleasure serving with you, Lieutenant Harris. You lived up to everything I’ve ever heard about you.”
We traded salutes, and the only general to visit Ray Freeman turned and walked away.
I stayed with Freeman for two more days. I watched his fingers twitch and his eyes roll as he dreamed. He woke briefly, then the doctors placed him in an induced coma, saying his body would heal more quickly if he was asleep. It was while he was in that coma that they grafted new skin on his face and throat. They rebuilt his eyes.
He would, they told me, leave the hospital as good as new. But it would take time. Everything would be as good as new, but it would take time.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
While looking for the right name for his fictional spy, Ian Fleming poached the name James Bond from the author of the book
I mention this only because Wayson Okamoto passed away in March 2007, and those of us who knew him will miss him deeply. The real Wayson and the one in my books resemble each other only in name. Wayson Okamoto was a kind and friendly person. He was a man who would quickly accept people into his circle of friends and someone you could always count on for a smile.
I attended the Nebula Awards in 2007. No, I was not a nominee, but that did not stop me from attending. Anne Sowards, my editor, invited me to join the Ace/Roc table during the banquet—a rare invitation for a freshman writer like me. During the banquet, I sat next to Joe Haldeman, author of
To date,
You know, it is a marvelous thing when you sit between two great masters and realize that they are friendly, interested, polite, down-to-earth people. Science fiction, and maybe writing in general, puts out a humbler breed of celebrity than most arts.
Anyway, I wanted to thank Anne and the editors at Ace for allowing me to join their table.
On to the business at hand.
As always, I wish to thank the lovely and talented Anne, for everything she has done to help me on this project.
The first problem was that I ran into a bit of a literary detour while writing this book. The detour should have lasted eight weeks, instead it distracted me for six full months. The good news was that I had finished the first draft of the novel before hitting that detour. The bad news was that when I finally turned the first draft of
They all said the same thing—the first pages of the book were choppy, the middle seemed to fly by, then the book fell apart in the last lap. They all disagreed about the source of the problem. John Thorpe, the first one to read the book, wanted Harris to find true love with Marianne, Ray Freeman’s sister. I thought that sounded good until Rachel Johnson pointed out that at the end of
I originally killed Freeman at the end of this book. Rachel liked that a lot because, as she said, you cannot save humanity without sacrifices. Mark Adams and John (Thorpe) said absolutely not—not if I ever planned to write another Harris book. As of this moment, I have signed a contract for a new three-book series of Harris books. Book one is due out in 2009.
In the end, the repairs were done during rewrite; I hope you enjoyed the final results.
Thank you, Rachel Johnson, for spending so much time helping me get this book in shape.
As always, I turned to Lew Herrington when I needed advice about life in the Marines. And, as always, I did not turn to him nearly enough. I wish to apologize to the Marines for everything I have gotten wrong about their tactics and their culture.
I thank my agent, Richard Curtis, for help placing this book and for the sage professional advice he often gives.
Above all, though, as I close this series of adventures, I wish to thank those of you who have read these novels. Thank you for coming along for the ride.
