"Damn! So there's no chance of all kids- "

"All kids don't need this extensive a workup," he said. "And our children's program is about ninety per cent subsidized. As we treat children, we also gather data for our research. Most of the kids don't have insurance anyway. In fact, you're our first true paying customer. Once this is standardized, once the computer programs are set up, the costs will drop precipitously."

"You can't set up field hospitals in every city," I said. Thinking of politicians closing AIDS wards to save money.

"No, and we don't have to. Once local personnel are trained to do the initial screening, our methods will be called upon only in the most difficult cases."

"So what you really need is...?"

"That's right, Mr. Burke. Money. We need about fifteen to twenty million dollars to finish the research, publish it, defend it...and make it exportable. But we're already doing the work...and the money will come," he said, hope and faith tangling in his voice.

"Girl call," Mama said.

It was around ten o'clock at night, and I'd invested over an hour walking around trying to find a pay phone that looked safe. I wasn't in the mood for mystery. "What girl?" I asked her.

"Say Pepper. You call her, okay? Very important."

"Yeah, okay. Anything else?"

"No."

"I'll call you- "

"You want Max?" Mama interrupted.

"Not down here," I told her. "I'll be back soon."

"Is Pepper around?"

"That's me, Chief," the Pied Piper girl's voice bounced over the longadistance line.

"I got a message to- "

"Delta flight six eightyatwo to Atlanta tomorrow morning at sixatwenty a.m. Can you be on it?"

"Maybe. Why should- ?"

"When you arrive, stay in the Delta terminal. Meet flight six oh three from La Guardia, okay? You can catch a return at three in the afternoon."

"There's isn't much time to- "

"You already have reservations, round trip, Mr. Haines," Pepper said, mocking the voice of a superaefficient secretary. "You had enough frequent flyer mileage on Delta for an upgrade too, so you'll be going first class. Will there be anything else?"

"No. Thanks a lot," I told her. Especially for the message that the Arnold Haines ID was all shot to hell.

I came out of the deplaning chute carrying the black aluminum attache case in one hand. In a mediumablue twoabutton suit, cleanashaven with my hair combed, I was an anonymous fish in the entrepreneur stream that clogs the hub airports every weekday.

My flight had been almost a half hour late. I was thinking of where to meet Wolfe when I spotted her standing behind the barrier. Hard to miss in that sunburstayellow silk dress with the long strand of black pearls the only decoration down the front. Her hair was in a French braid, the white wings prominent against her high forehead. She raised her hand and waved, a smile sparking across her lovely face.

For just a piece of a minute, I felt like a man coming home to his wife. Or what I thought that would feel like, anyway. I shrugged it off, not grieving for what I'd never lost.

Wolfe gave me a kiss on the cheek, took my arm and steered me away from the gate. If you were watching, you'd never guess it was business. She was a pro, all the way.

"It's probably better if we find somewhere to sit," she said. "You have breakfast?"

"Not really. Airplane food..."

"Me too," she said. "I know a good place. Come on."

We ordered Atlanta breakfast sandwiches- sausage wrapped in French toast. Wolfe poured maple syrup over her sausage like it was mustard on a hot dog, but I didn't have the heart for that. She had black coffee; I had apple juice.

"I heard something," she finally said. "I don't know if it's true. But I didn't want to wait to tell you. And I didn't want to use the phone."

"About the- "